Old  Dcccan  Days 


OR 


fiimtoo  fairy  Legends 


CURRENT    IN 
SOUTHERN 
j»   INDIA   •*  < 


CoUcctcd  from  Jt  & 
&  &  ORAL,*  & 
*  *  TRADITION 


By 


M.  FRERE 


With  an  Introdtic- 
tion  and  Notes  By 

SIR  BARTLE 
FRERE 


Albany,  N.  Y. 
JOSEPH  McDONOUGH 

J897 


PZ 
S.I 


CONTENTS, 


INTRODUCTION 5 

THE  COLLECTOR'S  APOLOGY 12 

THE  NARRATOR'S  NARRATIVE .  15 

1.  PUNCHKIN 27 

2.  A  FUNNY  STORY 44 

3-    BRAVE   SEVENTEE-BAI 51 

4.  TRUTH'S  TRIUMPH 81 

5.  RAMA  AND  LUXMAN ;  OR,  THE  LEARNED  OWL 98 

6.  LITTLE   SURYA  BAI 113 

7.  THE  WANDERINGS   OF  VICRAM    MAHARAJAH I2Q 

8.  LESS   INEQUALITY  THAN   MEN   DEEM l6l 

9.  PANCH-PHUL    RANEE 164 

10.  HOW  THE   SUN,  THE  MOON  AND  THE  WIND  WENT  OUT 

TO    DINNER 194 

11.  SINGH-RAJAH   AND  THE  CUNNING  LITTLE  JACKALS 196 

12.  THE  JACKAL,  THE  BARBER  AND  THE  BRAHMIN  WHO  HAD 

SEVEN   DAUGHTERS igy 

13.  TIT   FOR   TAT 2l8 

14.  THE   BRAHMIN,  THE   TIGER   AND    THE   SIX  JUDGES 2«O 

15.  THE  SELFISH   SPARROW  AND  THE  HOUSELESS  CROWS..   MS 

I 


4  Contents. 

am 

16.  THE  VALIANT    CHATTEE-MAKER 3Vf 

17.  THK  RAKSH AS*  PALACE 336 

1 8.  THE  BLIND  MAN,  THE  DEAF  MAN  AND  THE  DONKEY.  .  248 

19.  MUCHIE  LAL 358 

30.  CHUNDUN  RAJAH 268 

21.  SODEWA  BAI 280 

22.  CHANDRA'S  VENGEANCE 391 

33.  HOW  THE  THREE  CLEVER  MEN  OUTWITTED  THE  DEMONS  314 

34.  THE  ALLIGATOR  AND  THE  JACKAL 336 

NOTES 333 


INTRODUCTION. 


A  FEW  words  seem  necessary  regarding  the  origin  of 
these  stories,  in  addition  to  what  the  Narrator  says  for 
herself  in  her  Narrative,  and  what  is  stated  in  the  Collector's 
"Apology." 

With  the  exception  of  two  or  three,  which  will  be  recog- 
nized as  substantially  identical  with  stories  of  Pilpay  or  other 
well-known  Hindoo  fabulists,  I  never  before  heard  any  of 
these  tales  among  the  Mahrattas,  in  that  part  of  the  Deccan 
where  the  Narrator  and  her  family  have  lived  for  the  last  two 
generations  ;  and  it  is  probable  that  most  of  the  stories  were 
brought  from  among  the  Lingaets  of  Southern  India,  the  tribe, 
or  rather  sect,  to  which  Anna  de  Souza  tells  us  her  family 
belonged  before  their  conversion  to  Christianity. 

The  Lingaets  form  one  of  the  most  strongly  marked  divi- 
sions of  the  Hindoo  races  south  of  the  river  Kistna.  They 
are  generally  a  well-favored,  well-to-do  people,  noticeable  for 
their  superior  frugality,  intelligence  and  industry,  and  for  the 
way  in  which  they  combine  and  act  together  as  a  separate 
body  apart  from  other  Hindoos.  They  have  many  pecu- 
liarities of  costume,  of  social  ceremony  and  of  religion,  which 
strike  even  a  casual  observer ;  and  though  clearly  not  abo- 
riginal, they  seem  to  have  much  ground  for  their  claim  to 
belong  to  a  more  ancient  race  and  an  earlier  wave  of  immi- 
gration than  most  of  the  Hindoo  nations  with  which  they  are 
now  intermingled. 

The  country  they  inhabit  is  tolerably  familiar  to  most 
English  readers  on  Indian  subjects,  for  it  is  the  theatre  of 
many  of  the  events  described  in  the  great  Duke's  earlier  des- 
patches, and  in  the  writings  of  Munro,  of  Wilkes,  and  of  Bu- 
chanan. The  extraordinary  beauty  of  some  of  the  natura) 


6  Introduction. 

features  of  the  coast  scenery,  and  the  abundance  of  the  archi- 
tectural and  other  remains  of  powerful  and  highly  civilized 
Hindoo  dynasties,  have  attracted  the  attention  of  tourists  and 
antiquaries,  though  not  to  the  extent  their  intrinsic  merit 
deserves.  Some  knowledge  of  the  land  tenures  and  agricul- 
ture of  the  country  is  accessible  to  readers  of  Indian  blue- 
books. 

But  of  all  that  relates  to  the  ancient  history  and  politics 
of  the  former  Hindoo  sovereigns  of  these  regions  very  little  is 
known  to  the  general  reader,  though  from  their  power,  and 
riches  and  long-sustained  civilization,  as  proved  by  the  monu- 
ments these  rulers  have  left  behind  them  there  are  few  parts 
of  India  better  worth  the  attention  of  the  historian  and 
antiquary. 

Of  the  inner  life  of  the  people,  past  or  present,  of  their 
social  peculiarities  and  popular  beliefs,  even  less  is  known 
or  procurable  in  any  published  form.  With  the  exception  of 
a  few  graphic  and  characteristic  notices  of  shrewd  observers 
like  Munro,  little  regarding  them  is  to  be  found  in  the 
writings  of  any  author  likely  to  come  in  the  way  of  ordinary 
readers. 

But  this  is  not  from  want  of  materials :  a  good  deal  has 
been  published  in  India,  though,  with  the  common  fate  of 
Indian  publications,  the  books  containing  the  information  are 
often  rare  in  English  collections,  and  difficult  to  meet  with  in 
England,  except  in  a  few  public  libraries.  Of  unpublished 
material  there  must  be  a  vast  amount,  collected  not  only  by 
the  government  servants,  but  by  missionaries,  and  others 
residing  in  the  country,  who  have  peculiar  opportunities  for 
observation,  and  for  collecting  information  not  readily  to  be 
obtained  by  a  stranger  or  an  official  Collections  of  this  kind 
are  specially  desirable  as  regards  the  popular  non-Brahminical 
superstitions  of  the  lower  orders. 

Few,  even  of  those  who  have  lived  many  years  in  India 
and  made  some  inquiry  regarding  the  external  religion  of  its 
inhabitants,  are  aware  how  little  the  popular  belief  of  the 
lower  classes  has  in  common  with  the  Hindooism  of  the 
Brahmins,  and  how  much  it  differs  in  different  provinces,  and 
in  different  races  and  classes  in  the  same  province. 

In  the  immediate  vicinity  of  Poona,  where  Brahminisra 


Introduction.  7 

seems  so  orthodox  and  powerful,  a  very  little  observation  wfll 
satisfy  the  inquirer  that  the  favorite  objects  of  popular  wor- 
ship do  not  always  belong  to  the  regular  Hindoo  Pantheon. 
No  orthodox  Hindoo  deity  is  so  popular  in  the  Poona  Dec- 
can  as  the  deified  sage  Vithoba  and  his  earlier  expounders, 
both  sage  and  followers  being  purely  local  divinities.  Wher- 
ever a  few  of  the  pastoral  tribes  are  settled,  there  Byroba,  the 
god  of  the  herdsmen,  or  Kundoba,  the  deified  hero  of  the 
shepherds,  supersedes  all  other  popular  idols.  Byroba  the 
Terrible,  and  other  remnants  of  Fetish  or  of  Snake-worship, 
everywhere  divide  the  homage  of  the  lower  castes  with  the 
recognized  Hindoo  divinities,  while  outside  almost  every  vil- 
lage the  circle  of  large  stones  sacred  to  Vetal,  the  demon-god 
of  the  outcast  helot  races,  which  reminds  the  traveler  of  the 
Druid  circles  of  the  northern  nations,  has  for  ages  held,  and 
still  holds,  its  ground  against  all  Brahminical  innovations. 

Some  of  these  local  or  tribal  divinities,  when  their  wor- 
shipers are  very  numerous  or  powerful,  have  been  adopted 
into  the  Hindoo  Olympus  as  incarnations  or  manifestations 
of  this  or  that  orthodox  divinity,  and  one  or  two  have  been 
provided  with  elaborate  written  legends  connecting  them  with 
some  known  Puranic  character  or  event ;  but,  in  general,  the 
true  history  of  the  local  deity,  if  it  survives  at  all,  is  to  be 
found  only  in  popular  tradition ;  and  it  thus  becomes  a  matter 
of  some  ethnological  and  historical  importance  to  secure  all 
such  fleeting  remnants  of  ancient  superstition  before  they  are 
forgotten  as  civilization  advances. 

Some  information  of  this  kind  is  to  be  gleaned  even  from 
the  present  series  of  legends,  though  the  object  of  the  col- 
lector being  simply  amusement,  and  not  antiquarian  research, 
any  light  which  is  thrown  on  the  popular  superstitions  of  the 
country  is  only  incidental. 

Of  the  superhuman  personages  who  appear  in  them,  the 
"Rakshas"  is  the  most  prominent  This  being  has  many 
features  in  common  with  the  demoniacal  Ogre  of  other  lands. 
The  giant  bulk  and  terrible  teeth  of  his  usual  form  are  the 
universal  attributes  of  his  congener.  His  habit  of  feasting  on 
dead  bodies  will  remind  the  reader  of  the  Arabian  Ghoul, 
while  the  simplicity  and  stupidity  which  qualify  the  super- 
natural powers  of  the  Rakshas,  and  usually  enable  the  quick- 


3  Introduction. 

wilted  mortal  to  gain  the  victory  over  him,  will  recall  many 
humorous  passages  in  which  giants  figure  in  our  own  Norse 
and  Teutonic  legends. 

The  English  reader  must  bear  in  mind  that  in  India  beings 
of  this  or  of  very  similar  nature  are  not  mere  traditions  of  the 
past,  but  that  they  form  an  important  part  of  the  existing 
practical  belief  of  the  lower  orders.  Grown  men  will  some- 
times refuse  every  inducement  to  pass  at  night  near  the  sup- 
posed haunt  of  a  Rakshas,  and  I  have  heard  the  cries  of  a 
belated  traveler  calling  for  help  attributed  to  a  Rakshas  luring 
his  prey. 

Nor  is  darkness  always  an  element  in  this  superstition: 
I  have  known  a  bold  and  experienced  tracker  of  game 
gravely  assert  that  some  figures  which  he  had  been  for  some 
time  keenly  scanning  on  the  bare  summit  of  a  distant  hill 
were  beings  of  this  order,  and  he  was  very  indignant  at  the 
laugh  which  his  observation  provoked  from  his  less-experi- 
enced European  disciple.  "If  your  telescope  could  see  as 
far  as  my  old  eyes,"  the  veteran  said,  « or  if  you  knew  the 
movements  of  all  the  animals  of  this  hunting-ground  as  well 
as  I  do,  you  would  see  that  those  must  be  demons  and 
nothing  else.  No  men  nor  animals  at  this  time  of  day  would 
collect  on  an  open  space  and  move  about  in  that  way.  Be- 
sides, that  large  rock  close  by  them  is  a  noted  place  for 
demons  ;  every  child  in  the  village  knows  that" 

I  have  heard  another  man  of  the  same  class,  when  asked 
why  he  looked  so  intently  at  a  human  footstep  in  the  forest 
pathway,  gravely  observe  that  the  footmark  looked  as  if  the 
foot  which  made  it  had  been  walking  heel-foremost,  and  must 
therefore  have  been  made  by  a  Rakshas,  « for  they  always 
walked  so  when  in  human  form." 

Another  expressed  particular  dread  of  a  human  face,  the 
eyes  of  which  were  placed  at  an  exaggerated  angle  to  each 
other,  like  those  of  a  Chinese  or  Malay,  "  because  that  posi- 
tion of  the  eyes  was  the  only  way  in  which  you  could  recog- 
nize a  Rakshas  in  human  shape." 

In  the  more  advanced  and  populous  parts  of  the  country 
the  Rakshas  seems  giving  way  to  the  "  Bhoot,"  which  more 
nearly  resembles  the  mere  ghost  of  modern  European  super- 
stition ;  but  even  in  this  diluted  form  such  beings  have  au 


Introduction.  9 

influence  over  Indian  imaginations  to  which  it  is  difficult  in 
these  days  to  find  any  parallel  in  Europe. 

I  found,  quite  lately,  a  traditionary  order  in  existence  at 
Government  House,  Dapoorie,  near  Poona,  which  directed 
the  native  sentry  on  guard  "  to  present  arms  if  a  cat  or  dog, 
jackal  or  goat,  entered  or  left  the  house  or  crossed  near  his 
beat "  during  certain  hours  of  the  night,  "  because  it  was  the 
ghost"  of  a  former  governor,  who  was  still  remembered  as 
one  of  the  best  and  kindest  of  men. 

How  or  when  the  custom  originated  I  could  not  learn, 
but  the  order  had  been  verbally  handed  on  from  one  native 
sergeant  of  the  guard  to  another  for  many  years,  without 
any  doubts  as  to  its  propriety  or  authority,  till  it  was  acci- 
dentally overheard  by  an  European  ofiicer  of  the  governor's 
staff. 

In  the  hills  and  deserts  of  Sind  the  belief  in  beings  of  this 
order,  as  might  be  expected  in  a  wild  and  desolate  country, 
is  found  strong  and  universal ;  there,  however,  the  Rakshas 
has  changed  his  name  to  that  of  our  old  friend  the  «  GUI"  of 
the  Arabian  Nights,  and  he  has  somewhat  approximated  in 
character  to  the  Pwcca  or  Puck  of  our  own  country.  The 
GUI  of  the  Beelooch  hills  is  wayward  and  often  morose,  but 
not  necessarily  malignant.  His  usual  form  is  that  of  a 
dwarfish  human  being,  with  large  eyes  and  covered  with  long 
hair,  and  apt  to  breathe  with  a  heavy  snoring  kind  of  noise. 
From  the  circumstantial  accounts  I  have  heard  of  such  «  GUIS" 
being  seen  seated  on  rocks  at  the  side  of  lonely  passes,  I 
suspect  that  the  great  horned  eagle-owl,  which  is  not  uncom- 
mon in  the  hill-country  of  Sind,  has  to  answer  for  many  well- 
vouched  cases  of  Gin  apparition. 

The  Gin  does  not,  however,  always  retain  his  own  shape ; 
he  frequently  changes  to  the  form  of  a  camel,  goat  or  other 
animal.  If  a  GUI  be  accidentally  met,  it  is  recommended 
that  the  traveler  should  show  no  sign  of  fear,  and,  above  all, 
keep  a  civil  tongue  in  his  head,  for  the  demon  has  a  special 
aversion  to  bad  language.  Every  Beelooch  has  heard  of  in- 
stances hi  which  such  chance  acquaintanceships  with  GUM 
have  not  only  led  to  no  mischief,  but  been  the  source  of  much 
benefit  to  the  fortunate  mortal  who  had  the  courage  and  pru- 
dence to  turn  them  to  account ;  for  a  GUI  once  attached  to  a 


io  Introduction. 

man  will  work  hard  and  faithfully  for  him,  and  sometimes 
show  him  the  entrance  to  those  great  subterranean  caverns 
under  the  hills,  where  there  is  perpetual  spring,  and  trees 
laden  with  fruits  of  gold  and  precious  stones ;  but  the  mortal 
once  admitted  to  such  a  paradise  is  never  allowed  to  leave  it 
There  are  few  neighborhoods  in  the  Beelooch  hills  which 
cannot  show  huge  stones,  apparently  intended  for  building, 
which  have  been,  «  as  all  the  country-side  knows,"  moved  by 
such  agency,  and  the  entrance  to  the  magic  cavern  is  never 
very  far  off,  though  the  boldest  Beelooch  is  seldom  very  will- 
ing to  show  or  to  seek  for  the  exact  spot 

Superstitions  nearly  identical  were  still  current  within  the 
last  forty  years,  when  I  was  a  boy,  on  the  borders  of  Wales. 
In  Cwm  Pwcca  (the  Fairies'  Glen),  in  the  valley  of  the 
Clydach,  between  Abergavenny  and  Merthyr,  the  cave  used 
to  be  shown  into  which  a  belated  miner  was  decoyed  by  the 
Pwccas,  and  kept  dancing  for  ten  years ;  and  a  farm-house 
on  the  banks  of  the  Usk,  not  far  off,  was,  in  the  last  genera- 
tion, the  abode  of  a  farmer  who  had  a  friendly  Pwcca  in  his 
service.  The  goblin  was  called  Pwcca  Trwyn,  as  I  was 
assured  from  his  occasionally  being  visible  as  a  huge  human 
nose.  He  would  help  the  mortal  by  carrying  loads  and 
mending  hedges,  but  usually  worked  only  while  the  farmer 
slept  at  noon,  and  always  expected  as  his  guerdon  a  portion 
of  the  toast  and  ale  which  his  friend  had  for  dinner  in  the 
field.  If  none  was  left  for  him,  he  would  cease  to  work ;  and 
he  once  roused  the  farmer  from  his  noontide  slumbers  by 
thrashing  him  soundly  with  his  own  hedging-stake. 

The  Peris  or  Fairies  of  these  stories  have  nothing  dis- 
tinctive about  them.  Like  the  fairies  of  other  lands,  they 
often  fall  in  love  with  mortal  men,  and  are  visible  to  the  pure 
eyes  of  childhood  when  hidden  from  the  grosser  vision  of 
maturer  years. 

Next  to  the  Rakshas,  the  Cobra,  or  deadly  hooded  snake, 
plays  the  most  important  part  in  these  legends  as  a  super- 
natural personage.  This  is  one  only  of  the  many  traces 
still  extant  of  that  serpent-worship  formerly  so  general  in 
Western  India.  I  have  no  doubt  that  Mr.  Ferguson,  in  his 
forthcoming  work  on  Bhuddhist  antiquities,  will  throw  much 
light  on  this  curious  subject  I  will,  therefore,  only  now 


Introduction.  It 

observe  that  this  serpent-worship  as  it  still  exists  is  some- 
thing more  active  than  a  mere  popular  superstition.  The 
Cobra,  unless  disturbed,  rarely  goes  far  from  home,  and  is 
supposed  to  watch  jealously  over  a  hidden  treasure.  He  is 
always,  in  the  estimation  of  the  lower  classes,  invested  with 
supernatural  powers,  and  according  to  the  treatment  he  re- 
ceives he  builds  up  or  destroys  the  fortunes  of  the  house  to 
which  he  belongs.  No  native  will  willingly  kill  him  if  he  can 
get  rid  of  him  in  any  other  way;  and  the  poorer  classes 
always,  after  he  is  killed,  give  him  all  the  honors  of  a  regular 
cremation,  assuring  him,  with  many  protestations,  as  the  pile 
burns,  "  that  they  are  guiltless  of  his  blood ;  that  they  slew 
him  by  order  of  their  master,"  or  "that  they  had  no  other 
way  to  prevent  his  biting  the  children  or  the  chickens." 

A  very  interesting  discussion  on  the  subject  of  the  Snake 
Race  of  Ancient  India,  between  Mr.  Bayley  and  Baboo  Rajen- 
dralal  Mitr,  will  be  found  hi  the  Proceedings  of  the  Asiatic 
Society  of  Bengal,  for  February,  1867. 


THE  COLLECTOR'S  APOLOGY. 


THE  collection  of  these  legends  was  commenced  with  the 
object  of  amusing  a  favorite  young  friend  of  mine.  It 
was  continued,  as  they  appeared  in  themselves  curious  illus- 
trations of  Indian  popular  tradition,  and  in  the  hope  that  some- 
thing might  thus  be  done  to  rescue  them  from  the  danger  of 
oral  transmission. 

Though  varied  in  their  imagery,  the  changes  between  the 
different  legends  are  rung  upon  very  few  themes,  as  if  pur- 
posely confined  to  what  was  most  familiar  to  the  people. 
The  similarity  between  the  incidents  in  some  of  these  and  in 
favorite  European  stories,  particularly  modern  German  ones, 
is  curious ;  and  the  leading  characteristics  peculiar  to  all 
orthodox  fairy  tales  are  here  preserved  intact  Step-mothers 
are  always  cruel,  and  step-sisters,  their  willing  instruments ; 
giants  and  ogres  always  stupid ;  youngest  daughters  more 
clever  than  their  elder  sisters  ;  and  the  Jackal  (like  his  Eu- 
ropean cousin  the  Fox)  usually  overcomes  every  difficulty, 
and  proves  a  bright  moral  example  of  the  success  of  wit 
against  brute  force — the  triumph  of  mind  over  matter. 

It  is  remarkable  that  in  the  romances  of  a  country  where 
women  are  generally  supposed  by  us  to  be  regarded  as  mere 
slaves  or  intriguers,  their  influence  (albeit  most  frequently 
put  to  proof  behind  the  scenes)  should  be  made  to  appear  so 
great,  and,  as  a  rule,  exerted  wholly  for  good  ;  and  that,  in  a 
land  where  despotism  has  such  a  firm  hold  on  the  hearts  of 
the  people,  the  liberties  of  the  subject  should  be  so  boldly 
asserted  as  by  the  old  Milkwoman  to  the  Rajah  in  ••  Little 
Surya  Bai,"  or  the  old  Malee*  to  the  Rajah  in  "Truth's  Tri- 

•  Garden*. 


The  Collector's  Apology.  13 

umph ;"  and  few,  probably  would  have  expected  to  find  the 
Hindoos  owning  such  a  romance  as  «  Brave  Seventee  Bai  ;"* 
or  to  meet  with  such  stories  as  «  The  Valiant  Chattee  Maker," 
and  "The  Blind  Man,  the  Deaf  Man  and  the  Donkey," 
among  a  nation  which,  it  has  been  constantly  asserted,  pos- 
sesses no  humor,  no  sense  of  the  ridiculous,  and  cannot 
understand  a  joke. 

In  "The  Narrator's  Narrative"  Anna  Liberata  de  Souza's 
own  story  is  related,  as  much  as  possible,  in  her  own  words 
of  expressive  but  broken  English.  She  did  not,  however, 
tell  it  in  one  continuous  narrative :  it  is  the  sum  of  many 
conversations  I  had  with  her  during  the  eighteen  months  that 
she  was  with  us. 

The  legends  themselves  are  altered  as  little  as  possible : 
half  their  charm,  however,  consisted  in  the  Narrator's  eager, 
flexible  voice  and  graphic  gestures. 

I  often  asked  her  if  there  were  no  stories  of  elephants 
having  done  wonderful  deeds  (as  from  their  strength  and 
sagacity  one  would  have  imagined  them  to  possess  all  the 
qualifications  requisite  to  heroes  of  romance);  but,  strange 
to  say,  she  knew  of  none  hi  which  elephants  played  any  part 
whatsoever. 

As  regards  the  Oriental  names,  they  have  generally  been 
written  as  Anna  pronounced  them.  It  was  frequently  not 
possible  to  give  the  true  orthography,  and  the  correctly  spelt 
name  does  not  always  give  a  clue  to  the  popular  pronuncia- 
tion. So  with  the  interpretations  and  geography.  Where  it 
is  possible  to  identify  what  is  described,  an  attempt  has  been 
made  to  do  so ;  but  for  other  explanations  Anna's  is  the  sole 
authority :  she  was  quite  sure  that  "  Seventee  Bai "  meant 
the  «  Daisy  Lady,"  though  no  botanist  would  acknowledge  the 
plant  under  that  name ;  and  she  was  satisfied  that  all  gentle- 
men who  have  traveled  know  where  "Agra  Brum"  is,  though 
she  had  never  been  there,  and  no  such  province  appears 
in  any  ordinary  Gazeteer  or  description  of  the  city  ot 
Akbar. 

These  few  legends,  told  by  one  old  woman  to  her  grand- 
children, can  only  be  considered  as  representatives  of  a  class. 

*  Was  this  narrative  of  feminine  sagacity  invented  by  some  old  woman,  wh«  felt 
aggrieved  at  the  general  contempt  entertained  for  her  tax? 

2 


14  The   Collector's  Apology. 

« That  world,"  to  use  her  own  words,  « is  gone ;"  and  those 
who  can  tell  us  about  it  in  this  critical  and  unimaginative  age 
are  fast  disappearing  too  before  the  onward  march  of  civiliza- 
tion ;  yet  there  must  be  in  the  country  many  a  rich  gold  mine 
inexplored.  Will  no  one  go  to  the  diggings  ? 

M.  F. 


THE  NARRATOR'S  NARRATIVE. 


MY  grandfather's  family  were  of  the  Lingaet  caste,  and 
lived  in  Calicut ;  but  they  went  and  settled  near  Goa  at 
the  time  the  English  were  there.  It  was  there  my  grand- 
father became  a  Christian.  He  and  his  wife,  and  all  the  family, 
became  Christians  at  once,  and  when  his  father  heard  it  he  was 
very  angry,  and  turned  them  all  out  of  the  house.  There  were 
very  few  Christians  in  those  days.  Now  you  see  Christians 
everywhere,  but  then  we  were  very  proud  to  see  one  anywhere. 
My  grandfather  was  Havildar*  in  the  English  army,  and  when 
the  English  fought  against  Tippo  Sahib,  my  grandmother  fol- 
lowed him  all  through  the  war.  She  was  a  very  tall,  fine, 
handsome  woman,  and  very  strong ;  wherever  the  regiment 
marched  she  went,  on,  on,  on,  on  (great  deal  hard  work  that 
old  woman  done).  Plenty  stories  my  granny  used  to  tell  about 
Tippo  and  how  Tippo  was  killed,  and  about  Wellesley  Sahib, 
and  Monro  Sahib,  and  Malcolm  Sahib,  and  Elphinstone  Sahib,  f 
Plenty  things  had  that  old  woman  heard  and  seen.  Ah,  he 
was  a  good  man,  Elphinstone  Sahib !  My  granny  used  often 
to  tell  us  how  he  would  go  down  and  say  to  the  soldiers, 
"Baba,J  Baba,  fight  well.  Win  the  battles,  and  each  man 
shall  have  his  cap  full  of  money;  and  after  the  war  is  over  I'll 
send  every  one  of  you  to  his  own  home."  (And  he  did  do 
it)  Then  we  children  plenty  proud,  when  we  heard  what 
Elphinstone  Sahib  had  said.  In  those  days  the  soldiers  were 
not  low-caste  people  like  they  are  now.  Many,  very  high-caste 

*  Sergeant  of  native  troops. 

t  The  Duke  of  Wellington,  Sir  Thomas  Monro,  Sir  John  Malcolm  and  Mr. 

Mountstuart  Elphinstone. 
}  My  children. 

H 


1 6  2%e  Narrator's  Narrative. 

men,  and  come  from  very  far,  from  Goa,  and  Calicut,  and 
Malabar  to  join  the  English. 

My  father  was  a  tent  lascar,*  and  when  the  war  was  ovei 
my  grandfather  had  won  five  medals  for  all  the  good  he  had 
done,  and  my  father  had  three ;  and  my  father  was  given  charge 
of  the  Kirkee  stores.f  My  grandmother  and  mother,  and  all 
the  family,  were  in  those  woods  behind  Poona  at  time  of  the 
battle  at  Kirkee.J  I've  often  heard  my  father  say  how  full  the 
river  was  after  the  battle — baggage  and  bundles  floating  down, 
and  men  trying  to  swim  across— and  horses  and  all  such  a 
bustle.  Many  people  got  good  things  on  that  day.  My  fathei 
got  a  large  chattee,§  and  two  good  ponies  that  were  in  the 
river,  and  he  took  them  home  to  camp  ;  but  when  he  got  there 
the  guard  took  them  away.  So  all  his  trouble  did  him  no 
good 

We  were  poor  people,  but  living  was  cheap,  and  we  had 
plenty  comfort. 

In  those  days  house  rent  did  not  cost  more  than  half  a 
rupee||  a  month,  and  you  could  build  a  very  comfortable  house 
for  a  hundred  rupees.  Not  such  good  houses  as  people  now 
live  in,  but  well  enough  for  people  like  us.  Then  a  whole 
family  could  live  as  comfortably  on  six  or  sevea  rupees  a  month 
as  they  can  now  on  thirty.  Grain,  now  a  rupee  a  pound,  was 
then  two  annas  a  pound.  Common  sugar,  then  one  anna  a 
pound,  is  now  worth  four  annas  a  pound.  Oil  which  then  sold 
for  six  pice  a  bottle,  now  costs  four  annas.  Four  annas'  worth 
of  salt,  chillies,  tamarinds,  onions  and  garlic,  would  then  last  a 
family  a  whole  month  ;  now  the  same  money  would  not  buy  a 
week's  supply.  Such  dungeree^f  as  you  now  pay  half  rupee  a 
yard  for,  you  could  thai  buy  from  twenty  to  forty  yards  of,  for 
the  rupee.  You  could  not  get  such  good  calico  then  as  now, 

•  Tent-pitcher.  t  The  Field  Arsenal  at  Kirkee  (near  Poona). 

*  The  battle  which  decided  the  fate  of  the  Deccan,  and  led  to  the  downfall  of 
Bajee  Riw  Peishwa,  and  extinction  of  Mahratta  rule.     Fought  istb   November, 
1817.    See  Note  A.  §  A  Jar. 

I  The  following  show*  the  Narrator's  calculation  of  i 
i  Pie— 1-4  of  a  cent 

3  Pie- 1  Pice. 

4  Pice— i  Anna. 

16  Annas— i  Rupee— about  50  cent*. 
1  A  coarse  cotton  cloth. 


The  Narrator  s  Narrative.  17 

but  the  dungeree  did  very  well.  Beef  then  was  a  pice  a  pound, 
and  the  vegetables  cost  a  pie  a  day.  For  half  a  rupee  you 
could  fill  the  house  with  wood.  Water  also  was  much  cheaper. 
You  could  then  get  a  man  to  bring  you  two  large  skins  full, 
morning  and  evening,  for  a  pie ;  now  he  would  not  do  it  under 
half  a  rupee  or  more.  If  the  children  came  crying  for  fruit,  a 
pie  would  get  them  as  many  guavas  as  they  liked  in  the  bazaar. 
Now  you'd  have  to  pay  that  for  each  guava.  This  shows  how 
much  more  money  people  need  now  than  they  did  then.* 

The  English  fixed  the  rupee  to  the  value  of  sixteen  annas, 
in  those  days  there  were  some  big  annas,  and  some  little  ones, 
and  you  could  sometimes  get  twenty-two  annas  for  a  rupee. 

I  had  seven  brothers  and  one  sister.  Things  were  very 
different  in  those  days  to  what  they  are  now.  There  were  no 
schools  then  to  send  the  children  to ;  it  was  only  the  great  peo- 
ple who  could  read  and  write.  If  a  man  was  known  to  be  able 
to  write  he  was  plenty  proud,  and  hundreds  and  hundreds  of 
people  would  come  to  him  to  write  their  letters.  Now  you  find 
a  pen  and  ink  in  every  house  !  I  don't  know  what  good  all 
this  reading  and  writing  does.  My  grandfather  couldn't  write, 
and  my  father  couldn't  write,  and  they  did  very  well ;  but  all's 
changed  now. 

My  father  used  to  be  out  all  day  at  his  work,  and  my 
mother  often  went  to  do  coolie-work,  f  and  she  had  to  take  my 
father  his  dinner  (my  mother  did  plenty  work  in  the  world); 
and  when  my  granny  was  strong  enough  she  used  sometimes 
co  go  into  the  bazaar,  if  we  wanted  money,  and  grind  rice  for 
the  shop-keepers,  and  they  gave  her  half  a  rupee  for  her  day's 
work,  and  used  to  let  her  have  the  bran  and  chaff  besides. 
But  afterward  she  got  too  old  to  do  that,  and  besides  there 
were  so  many  of  us  children.  So  she  used  to  stay  at  home 
and  look  after  us  while  my  mother  was  at  work.  Plenty 
bother  'tis  to  look  after  a  lot  of  children.  No  sooner  my 
granny's  back  turned  than  we  all  run  out  in  the  sun,  and  play 
with  the  dust  and  stones  on  the  road. 

Then  my  granny  would  call  out  to  us,  "  Come  here,  chil- 
dren, out  of  the  sun,  and  I'll  tell  you  a  story.  Coire  in; 

*  See  Note  B. 

t  Suck  work  as  is  done  by  the  Coolie  caste,  chiefly  fetching  and  carrying  heary 
load*. 

2* 


1 8  The  Narrator's  Narrative. 

you'll  all  get  headaches."  So  she  used  to  get  us  together 
(there  were  nine  of  us,  and  great  little  fidgets,  like  all  chil- 
dren), into  the  house ;  and  there  she'd  sit  on  the  floor,  and 
tell  us  one  of  the  stories  I  tell  you.  But  then  she  used  to 
make  them  last  much  longer,  the  different  people  telling  their 
own  stories  from  the  beginning  as  often  as  possible ;  so  that 
by  the  time  she'd  got  to  the  end,  she  had  told  the  beginning 
over  five  or  six  times.  And  so  she  went  on,  talk,  talk,  talk, 
Mera  Bap  reh  !*  Such  a  long  time  she'd  go  on  for,  till  all 
the  children  got  quite  tired  and  fell  asleep.  Now  there  are 
plenty  schools  to  which  to  send  the  children,  but  there  were 
no  schools  when  I  was  a  young  girl ;  and  the  old  women, 
who  could  do  nothing  else,  used  to  tell  them  stories  to  keep 
them  out  of  mischief. 

We  used  sometimes  to  ask  my  grandmother,  "Are  those 
stories  you  tell  us  really  true  ?  Were  there  ever  such  people 
in  the  world  ?"  She  generally  answered,  «  I  don't  know,  but 
maybe  there  are  somewhere."  I  don't  believe  there  are  any 
of  those  people  living ;  I  dare  say,  however,  they  did  once 
live ;  but  my  granny  believed  more  in  those  things  than  we 
do  now.  She  was  a  Christian,  she  worshiped  God  and  be- 
lieved in  our  Saviour,  but  still  she  would  always  respect  the 
Hindoo  temples.  If  she  saw  a  red  stone,  or  an  image  of 
Gunputtif  or  any  of  the  other  Hindoo  gods,  she  would  kneel 
down  and  say  her  prayers  there,  for  she  used  to  say,  «  Maybe 
there's  something  in  it" 

About  all  things  she  would  tell  us  pretty  stories — about 
men,  and  animals,  and  trees,  and  flowers,  and  stars.  There 
was  nothing  she  did  not  know  some  tale  about.  On  the 
bright  cold-weather  nights,  when  you  can  see  more  stars  than 
at  any  other  time  of  the  year,  we  used  to  like  to  watch  the 
sky,  and  she  would  show  us  the  Hen  and  Chickens,}:  and  the 
Key,§  and  the  Scorpion,  and  the  Snake,  and  the  Three  Thieves 
climbing  up  to  rob  the  Ranee's  silver  bedstead,  with  their 
mother  (that  twinkling  star  far  away)  watching  for  her  sons' 
return.  Pit-a-pat,  pit-a-pat,  you  can  see  how  her  heart  beats, 
for  she  is  always  frightened,  thinking,  "  Perhaps  they  will  be 
caught  and  hanged !" 

•  Oh,  my  Father  I  t  The  Hindoo  God  of  Wi*dom. 

t  The  Pleiades,  f  The  Great  Bear. 


TTie  Narrator's  Narrative.  19 

Then  she  would  show  us  the  Cross,*  that  reminds  us  of 
our  Saviour's,  and  the  great  pathway  of  lightf  on  which  He 
went  up  to  heaven.  It  is  what  you  call  the  Milky  Way. 
My  granny  usen't  to  call  it  that :  she  used  to  say  that  when 
our  Lord  returned  up  to  heaven  that  was  the  way  He  went, 
and  that  ever  since  it  has  shone  in  memory  of  His  ascension, 
so  beautiful  and  bright. 

She  always  said  a  star  with  a  smoky  tail  (comet)  meant 
war,  and  she  never  saw  a  falling  star  without  saying,  "  There's 
a  great  man  died;"  but  the  fixed  stars  she  used  to  think 
were  all  really  good  people,  burning  like  bright  lamps  before 
God. 

As  to  the  moon,  my  granny  used  to  say  she's  most  useful 
to  debtors  who  can't  pay  their  debts.  Thus :  A  man  who 
borrows  money  he  knows  he  cannot  pay,  takes  the  full  moon 
for  witness  and  surety.  Then,  if  any  man  so  silly  as  to  lend 
him  money  and  go  and  ask  him  for  it,  he  can  say,  « The 
moon's  my  surety ;  go  catch  hold  of  the  moon  !"  Now,  you 
see,  no  man  can  do  that ;  and  what's  more,  when  the  moon's 
once  full,  it  grows  every  night  less  and  less,  and  at  last  goes 
out  altogether. 

All  the  Cobras  in  my  grandmother's  stories  were  seven- 
headed.  This  puzzled  us  children,  and  we  would  say  to  her, 
«  Granny,  are  there  any  seven-headed  Cobras  now  ?  For  all 
the  Cobras  we  see  that  the  conjurors  bring  round  have  only 
one  head  each."  To  which  she  used  to  answer,  "No,  of 
course  there  are  no  seven-headed  Cobras  now.  That  world 
is  gone,  but  you  see  each  Cobra  has  a  hood  of  skin ;  that  is 
the  remains  of  another  head."  Then  we  would  say,  «  Although 
none  of  those  old  seven-headed  Cobras  are  alive  now,  maybe 
there  are  some  of  their  children  living  somewhere."  But  at 
this  my  granny  used  to  get  vexed,  and  say,  "  Nonsense  !  you 
are  silly  little  chatter-boxes ;  get  along  with  you !"  And, 
though  we  often  looked  for  the  seven-headed  Cobras,  we 
never  could  find  any  of  them. 

My  old  granny  lived  till  she  was  nearly  a  hundred ;  when 
she  got  very  old  she  rather  lost  her  memory,  and  often  made 
mistakes  in  the  stories  she  told  us,  telling  a  bit  of  one  story 

*  The  Southern  Cross. 

t  The  Milky  Way.    This  is  an  ancient  Christian  legend 


20  The  Narrator's  Narrative. 

and  then  joining  on  to  it  a  bit  of  some  other ;  for  we  children 
bothered  her  too  much  about  them,  and  sometimes  she  used 
to  get  very  tired  of  talking,  and  when  we  asked  her  for  a 
story,  would  answer,  "  You  must  ask  your  mother  about  it ; 
she  can  tell  you." 

Ah !  those  were  happy  days,  and  we  had  plenty  ways  to 
amuse  ourselves.  I  was  very  fond  of  pets ;  I  had  a  little 
dog  that  followed  me  everywhere,  and  played  all  sorts  of 
pretty  tricks,  and  I  and  my  youngest  brother  used  to  take 
the  little  sparrows  out  of  their  nests  on  the  roof  of  our 
house  and  tame  them.  These  little  birds  got  so  fond  of  me 
they  would  always  fly  after  me ;  as  I  was  sweeping  the  floor 
one  would  perch  on  my  head,  and  two  or  three  on  my  shoul- 
ders, and  the  rest  come  fluttering  after.  But  my  poor  father 
and  mother  used  to  shake  their  heads  at  me  when  they  saw 
this,  and  say,  « Ah,  naughty  girl,  to  take  the  little  birds  out 
of  their  nests  :  that  stealing  will  bring  you  no  good."  All  my 
family  were  very  fond  of  music.  You  know  that  Rosie  (my 
daughter)  sings  very  nicely  and  plays  upon  the  guitar,  and 
my  son-in-law  plays  on  the  pianoforte  and  the  fiddle  (we've 
got  two  fiddles  in  our  house  now),  but  Mera  Bap  reh  !  how 
well  my  grandfather  sang !  Sometimes  of  an  evening  he 
would  drink  a  little  toddy,*  and  be  quite  cheerful,  and  sing 
away ;  and  all  we  children  liked  to  hear  him.  I  was  very 
fond  of  singing.  I  had  a  good  voice  when  I  was  young,  and 
my  father  used  to  be  so  fond  of  making  me  sing,  and  I  often 
sang  to  him  that  Calicut  song  about  the  ships  sailing  on  the 
seaf  and  the  little  wife  watching  for  her  husband  to  come 
back,  and  plenty  more  that  I  forget  now  ;  and  my  father  and 
brothers  would  be  so  pleased  at  my  singing,  and  laugh  and 
say,  "  That  girl  can  do  anything."  But  now  my  voice  is 
gone,  and  I  didn't  care  to  sing  any  more  since  my  son  died, 
and  my  heart  been  so  sad. 

In  those  days  there  were  much  fewer  houses  in  Poona  than 
there  are  now,  and  many  more  wandering  gipsies,  and  such 
like.  They  were  very  troublesome,  doing  nothing  but  begging 
and  stealing,  but  people  gave  them  all  they  wanted,  as  it  was 
believed  that  to  incur  their  ill- will  was  very  dangerous.  It 

drink  made  from  the  juice  of  the  palm  tr*«. 


The  Narrator's  Narrative.  21 

was  not  safe  even  to  speak  harshly  of  them.  I  remember 
one  day,  when  I  was  quite  a  little  girl,  running  along  by  my 
mother's  side,  when  she  was  on  her  way  to  the  bazaar :  we 
happened  to  pass  the  huts  of  some  of  these  people,  and  I 
said  to  her  «  See,  mother,  what  nasty,  dirty  people  those  are ; 
they  live  in  such  ugly  little  houses,  and  they  look  as  if  they 
never  combed  their  hair  nor  washed."  When  I  said  this,  my 
mother  turned  round  quite  sharply  and  boxed  my  ears,  say- 
ing, "  Because  God  has  given  you  a  comfortable  home  and 
good  parents,  is  that  any  reason  for  you  to  laugh  at  others 
who  are  poorer  and  less  happy  ?"  "  I  meant  no  harm,"  I 
said  ;  and  when  we  got  home  I  told  my  father  what  my  mo- 
ther had  done,  and  he  said  to  her,  "  Why  did  you  slap  the 
child?"  She  answered,  "If  you  want  to  know,  ask  your 
daughter  why  I  punished  her.  You  will  then  be  able  to  judge 
whether  I  was  right  or  not."  So  I  told  my  father  what  I  had 
said  about  the  gipsies,  and  when  I  told  him,  instead  of  pity- 
ing me,  he  also  boxed  my  ears  very  hard.  So  that  was  all  I 
got  for  telling  tales  against  my  mother ! 

But  they  both  did  it,  fearing  if  I  spoke  evil  of  the  gipsies 
and  were  not  instantly  punished,  some  dreadful  evil  would 
befall  me. 

It  was  after  my  granny  that  I  was  named  "  Anna  Liberata." 
She  died  after  my  father,  and  when  I  was  eleven  years  old. 
Her  eyes  were  quite  bright,  her  hair  black,  and  her  teeth  good 
to  the  last  If  I'd  been  older  then,  I  should  have  been  able 
to  remember  more  of  her  stories.  Such  a  number  as  she 
used  to  tell !  I'm  afraid  my  sister  would  not  be  able  to 
remember  any  of  them.  She  has  had  much  trouble ;  that 
puts  those  sort  of  things  out  of  people's  heads ;  besides,  she 
is  a  goose.  She  is  younger  than  I  am,  although  you  would 
think  her  so  much  older,  for  her  hair  turned  gray  when  she 
was  very  young,  while  mine  is  quite  black  still.  She  is 
almost  bald  too,  now,  as  she  pulled  out  her  hair  because  it 
was  gray.  I  always  said  to  her,  "  Don't  do  so  ;  for  you  can't 
make  yourself  any  younger,  and  it  is  better,  when  you  are 
getting  old,  to  look  old.  Then  people  will  do  whatever  you 
ask  them  !  But  however  old  you  may  be,  if  you  look  young, 
they'll  say  to  you,  <  You  are  young  enough  and  strong  enough 
to  do  your  own  work  yourself'  " 


22  The  Narrator's  Narrative. 

My  mother  used  to  tell  us  stories  too ;  but  not  so  many 
as  my  granny.  A  few  years  ago  there  might  be  found  several 
old  people  who  knew  those  sorts  of  stories  ;  but  now  children 
go  to  school,  and  nobody  thinks  of  remembering  or  telling 
them — they'll  soon  be  all  forgotten.  It  is  true  there  are 
books  with  some  stories  something  like  these,  but  they  always 
put  them  down  wrong.  Sometimes  when  I  cannot  remember 
a  bit  of  a  story,  I  ask  some  one  about  it ;  then  they  say, 
"  There  is  a  story  of  that  name  in  my  book.  I  don't  know 
it,  but  I'll  read."  Then  they  read  it  to  me,  but  it  is  all  wrong, 
so  that  I  get  quite  cross,  and  make  them  shut  up  the  book. 
For  in  the  books  they  cut  the  stories  quite  short,  and  leave 
out  the  prettiest  part,  and  they  jumble  up  the  beginning  of 
one  story  with  the  end  of  another — so  that  it  is  altogether 
wrong. 

When  I  was  young,  old  people  used  to  be  very  fond  of  tell- 
\ng  these  stories  ;  but  instead  of  that,  it  seems  to  me  that  now 
the  old  people  are  fond  of  nothing  but  making  money. 

Then  I  was  married.  I  was  twelve  years  old  then.  Our 
native  people  have  a  very  happy  life  till  we  marry.  The  girls 
live  with  their  father  and  mother  and  brothers  and  sisters,  and 
have  got  nothing  to  do  but  amuse  themselves,  and  got  father 
and  mother  to  take  care  of  them ;  but  after  they're  married  they 
go  to  live  at  their  husband's  house,  and  the  husband's  mother 
and  sisters  are  often  very  unkind  to  them. 

You  English  people  can't  understand  that  sort  of  thing. 
When  an  Englishman  marries,  he  goes  to  a  new  house,  and  his 
wife  is  the  mistress  of  it ;  but  our  native  people  are  very  dif- 
ferent If  the  father  is  dead,  the  mother  and  unmarried  sis- 
ters live  in  the  son's  house,  and  rule  it ;  his  wife  is  nothing  in 
the  house.  And  the  mother  and  sisters  say  to  the  son's  wife, 
"  This  is  not  your  house — you've  not  always  lived  in  it ;  you 
cannot  be  mistress  here."  And  if  the  wife  complains  to  her 
husband,  and  he  speaks  about  it,  they  say,  «  Very  well,  if  you 
are  such  an  unnatural  son,  you'd  better  turn  your  mother  and 
sisters  out  of  doors ;  but  while  we  live  here,  we'll  rule  the 
house."  So  there  is  always  plenty  fighting.  It's  not  un- 
kind of  the  mother  and  sisters — it's  custom. 

My  husband  was  a  servant  in  Government  House — that  was 
when  Lord  Clare  was  governor  here.  When  I  was  twenty 


The  Narrator's  Narrative.  23 

years  old,  my  husband  died  of  a  bad  fever,  and  left  me  with 
two  children — the  boy  and  the  girl,  Rosie. 

I  had  no  money  to  keep  them  with,  so  I  said,  "  I'll  go  to 
service,"  and  my  mother-in-law  said,  «  How  can  you  go  with 
two  children,  and  so  young,  and  knowing  nothing  ?"  But  I  said, 
« I  can  learn,  and  I'll  go ;"  and  a  kind  lady  took  me  into  her 
service.  When  I  went  to  my  first  place,  I  hardly  knew  a  word 
of  English  (though  I  knew  our  Calicut  language,  and  Portu- 
guese, and  Hindostani,  and  Mahratti  well  enough),  and  I  could 
not  hold  a  needle.  I  was  so  stupid,  like  a  Coolie-woman  ;* 
but  my  mistress  was  very  kind  to  me,  and  I  soon  learnt ;  she 
did  not  mind  the  trouble  of  teaching  me.  I  often  think, 
"  Where  find  such  good  Christian  people  in  these  days  ?"  To 
take  a  poor,  stupid  woman  and  her  two  children  into  the 
house — for  I  had  them  both  with  me,  Rosie  and  the  boy.  I 
was  a  sharp  girl  in  those  days  ;  I  did  my  mistress'  work  and  I 
looked  after  the  children  too.  I  never  left  them  to  any  one 
else.  If  she  wanted  me  for  a  long  time,  I  used  to  bring  the 
children  into  the  room  and  set  them  down  on  the  floor,  so  as 
to  have  them  under  my  own  eye  whilst  I  did  her  work.  My 
mistress  was  very  fond  of  Rosie,  and  used  to  teach  her  to 
work  and  read.  After  some  time  my  mistress  went  home, 
and  since  then  I  have  been  in  eight  places. 

My  brother-in-law  was  valet  at  that  time  to  Napier  Sahib, 
up  in  Sind.  All  the  people  and  servants  were  very  fond  of 
that  Sahib.  My  brother-in-law  was  with  him  for  ten  years  ; 
and  he  wanted  me  to  go  up  there  to  get  place  as  ayah,  and 
said,  «  You  quick,  sharp  girl,  and  know  English  very  well ; 
you  easily  get  good  place  and  make  plenty  money."  But  I 
such  a  foolish  woman  I  would  not  go.  I  write  and  tell  him, 
«  No,  I  can't  come,  for  Sind  such  a  long  way  off,  and  I  cannot 
leave  the  children."  I  plenty  proud  then.  I  give  up  all  for 
the  children.  But  now  what  good  ?  I  know  your  language. 
What  use  ?  To  blow  the  fire  ?  I  only  a  miserable  woman, 
fit  to  go  to  cook-room  and  cook  the  dinner.  So  go  down  in 
the  world,  a  poor  woman  (not  much  good  to  have  plenty  in 
head  and  empty  pocket !)  but  if  I'd  been  a  man  I  might  now 
be  a  Fouzdar.f 

*  A  low  caate— hewer,  of  wood  and  drawers  of  water.         t  Chief  Conftable. 


24  The  Narrator's  Narrative. 

I  was  at  Kolapore*  at  the  time  of  the  mutiny,  and  we  had 
to  run  away  in  the  middle  of  the  night ;  but  I've  told  you  be- 
fore all  about  that.  Then  seven  years  ago  my  mother  died 
(she  was  ninety  when  she  died),  and  we  came  back  to  live  at 
Poona,  and  my  daughter  was  married,  and  I  was  so  happy  and 
pleased. 

I  gave  a  feast  then  to  three  hundred  people,  and  we  had 
music  and  dancing,  and  my  son,  he  so  proud  he  dancing  from 
morning  to  night,  and  running  here  and  there  arranging  every- 
thing ;  and  on  that  day  I  said,  "  Throw  the  doors  open,  and 
any  beggar,  any  poor  person  come  here,  give  them  what  they 
like  to  eat,  for  whoever  comes  shall  have  enough,  since  there's 
no  more  work  for  me  in  the  world."  So,  thinking  I  should 
be  able  to  leave  service,  and  give  up  work,  I  spent  all  the 
money  I  had  left.  That  was  not  very  much,  for  in  sending  my 
son  to  school  I'd  spent  a  great  deal  He  was  such  a  beauty 
boy — tall,  straight,  handsome — and  so  clever.  They  used  to 
say  he  looked  more  like  my  brother  than  my  son,  and  he  said 
to  me,  "  Mammy,  you've  worked  for  us  all  your  life  ;  now  I'm 
grown  up,  I'll  get  a  clerk's  place  and  work  for  you.  You  shall 
work  no  more,  but  live  in  my  house."  But  last  year  he  was 
drowned  in  the  river.  That  was  my  great  sad.  Since  then 
I  couldn't  lift  up  my  head.  I  can't  remember  things  now  as  I 
used  to  do,  and  all  is  muddled  in  my  head,  six  and  seven.  It 
makes  me  sad  sometimes  to  hear  you  laughing  and  talking  so 
happy  with  your  father  and  mother  and  all  your  family,  when  I 
think  of  my  father,  and  mother,  and  brothers,  and  husband, 
and  son,  all  dead  and  gone  !  No  more  happy  home  like  that 
for  me.  What  should  I  care  to  live  for  ?  I  would  come  to 
England  with  you,  for  I  know  you  would  be  good  to  me  and 
bury  me  when  I  die,  but  I  cannot  go  so  far  from  Rosie.  My 
one  eye  put  out,  my  other  eye  left.  I  could  not  lose  it  too. 
If  it  were  not  for  Rosie  and  her  children  I  should  like  to  travel 
about  and  see  the  world.  There  are  four  places  I  have  always 
wished  to  see — Calcutta,  Madras,  England  and  Jerusalem  (my 
poor  mother  always  wished  to  see  Jerusalem,  too — that  her 
great  hope);  but  I  shall  not  see  them  now.  Many  ladies  wanted 
to  take  me  to  England  with  them,  and  if  I  had  gone  I  should 
have  saved  plenty  money,  but  now  it  is  too  late  to  think  of 

•  Capital  of  th«  Kolapore  State,  in  the  Southern  Mahratta  country. 


The  Narrator's  Narrative.  25 

that.  Besides,  it  would  not  be  much  use.  What's  the  good 
of  my  saving  money  ?  Can  I  take  it  away  with  me  when  I 
die  ?  My  father  and  grandfather  did  not  do  so,  and  they  had 
enough  to  live  on  till  they  died.  I  have  enough  for  what  I 
want,  and  I've  plenty  poor  relations.  They  all  come  to  me, 
asking  for  money,  and  I  give  it  them.  I  thank  our  Saviour 
there  are  enough  good  Christians  here  to  give  me  a  slict  of 
bread  and  cup  of  water  when  I  can't  work  for  it  I  do  not 
fear  to  come  to  want. 

GOVERNMENT  HOUSE,  ) 

PARELL,  BOMBAY,  1866.  J 

3*  B 


OLD  DECCAN  DAYS. 


P  UNCHKIN. 

ONCE  upon  a  time  there  was  a  Rajah  *  who  had 
seven  beautiful  daughters.  They  were  all  good 
girls ;  but  the  youngest,  named  Balna,  f  was  more 
clever  than  the  rest.  The  Rajah's  wife  died  when 
they  were  quite  little  children,  so  these  seven  poor 
Princesses  were  left  with  no  mother  to  take  care  of 
them. 

The  Rajah's  daughters  took  it  by  turns  to  cook  their 
father's  dinner  every  day,  f  whilst  he  was  absent  de- 
liberating with  his  ministers  on  the  affairs  of  the  nation. 

About  this  time  the  Purdan  §  died,  leaving  a  widow 
and  one  daughter ;  and  every  day,  every  day,  when 
the  seven  Princesses  were  preparing  their  father's  din- 
ner, the  Purdan's  widow  and  daughter  would  come 
and  beg  for  a  little  fire  from  the  hearth.  Then  Balna 
used  to  say  to  her  sisters,  "  Send  that  woman  away ; 

*  King.        f  The  Little  One.        %  See  Notes  at  the  end. 
§  Or,  more  correctly,  Prudhan,  Prime  Minister. 

27 


•8  Old  Deccan  Days. 

send  her  away.  Let  her  get  the  fire  at  her  own  house. 
What  does  she  want  with  ours  ?  If  we  allow  her  to 
come  here,  we  shall  suffer  for  it  some  day."  But  the 
other  sisters  would  answer,  "  Be  quiet,  Balna ;  why 
must  you  always  be  quarreling  with  this  poor  woman  ? 
Let  her  take  some  fire  if  she  likes."  Then  the  Pur- 
dan's  widow  used  to  go  to  the  hearth  and  take  a  few 
sticks  from  it;  and,  whilst  no  one  was  looking,  she 
would  quickly  throw  some  mud  into  the  midst  of  the 
dishes  which  were  being  prepared  for  the  Rajah's 
dinner. 

Now  the  Rajah  was  very  fond  of  his  daughters. 
Ever  since  their  mother's  death  they  had  cooked  his 
dinner  with  their  own  hands,  in  order  to  avoid  the 
danger  of  his  being  poisoned  by  his  enemies.  So, 
when  he  found  the  mud  mixed  up  with  his  dinner,  he 
thought  it  must  arise  from* their  carelessness,  as  it  ap- 
peared improbable  that  any  one  should  have  put  mud 
there  on  purpose ;  but  being  very  kind,  he  did  not 
like  to  reprove  them  for  it,  although  this  spoiling  of 
the  currie  was  repeated  many  successive  days. 

At  last,  one  day,  he  determined  to  hide  and  watch 
his  daughters  cooking,  and  see  how  it  all  happened ;  so 
he  went  into  the  next  room,  and  watched  them  through 
a  hole  in  the  wall. 

There  he  saw  his  seven  daughters  carefully  washing 
the  rice  and  preparing  the  currie,  and  as  each  dish 
was  completed,  they  put  it  by  the  fire  ready  to  be 
cooked.  Next  he  noticed  the  Purdan's  widow  come 
to  the  door,  and  beg  for  a  few  sticks  from  the  fire  to 
caok  her  dinner  with.  Balna  turned  to  her,  angrily, 
and  said,  "Why  don't  you  keep  fuel  in  your  own 
bouse,  and  not  come  here  every  day  and  take  ours? 


Punchkin.  39 

Sisters,  don't  give  this  woman  any  more ;  let  her  buy 
it  for  herself." 

Then  the  eldest  sister  answered,  "Balna,  let  the 
poor  woman  take  the  wood  and  the  fire  ;  she  does  us 
no  harm."  Bat  Balna  replied,  "If  you  let  her  come 
here  so  often,  maybe  she  will  do  us  some  harm,  and 
make  us  sorry  for  it,  some  day." 

The  Rajah  then  saw  the  Purdan's  widow  go  to  the 
place  where  all  his  dinner  was  nicely  prepared,  and,  as 
she  took  the  wood,  she  threw  a  little  mud  into  each  of 
the  dishes. 

At  this  he  was  very  angry,  and  sent  to  have  the 
woman  seized  and  brought  before  him.  But  when  the 
widow  came,  she  told  him  that  she  had  played  this 
trick  because  she  wanted  to  gain  an  audience  with  him  ; 
and  she  spoke  so  cleverly,  and  pleased  him  so  well 
with  her  cunning  words,  that  instead  of  punishing  her, 
the  Rajah  married  her,  and  made  her  his  Ranee,  *  and 
she  and  her  daughter  came  to  live  in  the  palace. 

The  new  Ranee  hated  the  seven  poor  Princesses,  and 
wanted  to  get  them,  if  possible,  out  of  the  way,  in 
order  that  her  daughter  might  have  all  their  riches  and 
live  in  the  palace  as  Princess  in  their  place ;  and  in- 
stead of  being  grateful  to  them  for  their  kindness  to  her, 
she  did  all  she  could  to  make  them  miserable.  She 
gave  them  nothing  but  bread  to  eat,  and  very  little  of 
that,  and  very  little  water  to  drink  ;  so  these  seven  poor 
little  Princesses,  who  had  been  accustomed  to  have 
everything  comfortable  about  them,  and  good  food  and 
good  clothes  all  their  lives  long,  were  very  miserable 
and  unhappy ;  and  they  used  to  go  out  every  day  and 
sit  by  their  dead  mother's  tomb  and  cry ;  and  used  to  say, 
*  Queen. 


50  Old  Deccan  Days. 

"  Oh  mother,  mother,  cannot  you  see  your  poor  chil- 
dren, how  unhappy  we  are,  and  how  we  are  starved 
by  our  cruel  step-mother  ?" 

One  day,  whilst  they  were  sobbing  and  crying,  lo  and 
behold !  a  beautiful  pomelo  tree  *  grew  up  out  of  the 
grave,  covered  with  fresh  ripe  pomeloes,  and  the  chil- 
dren satisfied  their  hunger  by  eating  some  of  the  fruit ; 
and  every  day  after  this,  instead  of  trying  to  eat  the 
nasty  dinner  their  step-mother  provided  for  them,  they 
used  to  go  out  to  their  mother's  grave  and  eat  the  po- 
meloes which  grew  there  on  the  beautiful  tree. 

Then  the  Ranee  said  to  her  daughter,  "  I  cannot  tell 
how  it  is :  every  day  those  seven  girls  say  they  don't  want 
any  dinner,  and  won't  eat  any ;  and  yet  they  never  grow 
thin  nor  look  ill ;  they  look  better  than  you  do.  I  can- 
not tell  how  it  is ;"  and  she  bade  her  watch  the  seven 
Princesses  and  see  if  any  one  gave  them  anything  to 
eat 

So  next  day,  when  the  Princesses  went  to  their 
mother's  grave,  and  were  eating  the  beautiful  pome- 
loes, the  Purdan's  daughter  followed  them  and  saw 
them  gathering  the  fruit. 

Then  Balna  said  to  her  sisters,  "  Do  you  not  see  that 
girl  watching  us?  Let  us  drive  her  away  or  hide  the 
pomeloes,  else  she  will  go  and  tell  her  mother  all  about 
it,  and  that  will  be  very  bad  for  us." 

But  the  other  sisters  said,  "  Oh  no,  do  not  be  unkind, 
Balna.  The  girl  would  never  be  so  cruel  as  to  tell  her 
mother.  Let  us  rather  invite  her  to  come  and  have 
gome  of  the  fruit ;"  and  calling  her  to  them,  they  gave 
her  one  of  the  pomeloes. 

No  sooner  had  she  eaten  it,  however,  than  the  Pur- 
•  Citrtu  <fr«ma««— the  Shaddock  of  the  West  Indies 


Punchkin.  31 

dan's  daughter  went  home  and  said  to  her  mother,  "  I 
do  not  wonder  the  seven  Princesses  will  not  eat  the 
nasty  dinner  you  prepare  for  them,  for  by  their  mother's 
grave  there  grows  a  beautiful  pomelo  tree,  and  they  go 
there  every  day  and  eat  the  pomeloes.  I  ate  one,  and 
it  was  the  nicest  I  have  ever  tasted." 

The  cruel  Ranee  was  much  vexed  at  hearing  this, 
and  all  next  day  she  stayed  in  her  room,  and  told  the 
Rajah  that  she  had  a  very  bad  headache.  The  Rajah 
at  hearing  this  was  deeply  grieved,  and  said  to  his  wife, 
"  What  can  I  do  for  you?"  She  answered,  "  There  is 
only  one  thing  that  will  make  my  headache  well.  By 
your  dead  wife's  tomb  there  grows  a  fine  pomelo  tree  ; 
you  must  bring  that  here,  and  boil  it,  root  and  branch, 
and  put  a  little  of  the  water  in  which  it  has  been 
boiled  on  my  forehead,  and  that  will  cure  my  head- 
ache." So  the  Rajah  sent  his  servants,  and  had  the 
beautiful  pomelo  tree  pulled  up  by  the  roots,  and  did 
as  the  Ranee  desired ;  and  when  some  of  the  water 
in  which  it  had  been  boiled  was  put  on  her  forehead, 
she  said  her  headache  was  gone  and  she  felt  quite 
well. 

Next  day,  when  the  seven  Princesses  went  as  usual 
to  the  grave  of  their  mother,  the  pomelo  tree  had  dis- 
appeared. Then  they  all  began  to  cry  very  bitterly. 

Now  there  was  by  the  Ranee's  tomb  a  small  tank,  * 
and  as  they  were  crying  they  saw  that  the  tank  was 
filled  with  a  rich  cream-like  substance,  which  quickly 
hardened  into  a  thick  white  cake.  At  seeing  this  all 
the  Princesses  were  very  glad,  and  they  ate  some  of  the 
cake,  and  liked  it ;  and  next  day  the  same  thing  hap- 
pened, and  so  it  went  on  for  many  days.  Every  morn" 
*  Reservoir  for  water. 


3»  Old  Dcccan  Days. 

ing  the  Princesses  went  to  their  mother's  grave,  and 
found  the  little  tank  filled  with  the  nourishing  cream- 
like  cake.  Then  the  cruel  step-mother  said  to  her 
daughter :  "  I  cannot  tell  how  it  is :  I  have  had  the  po- 
melo tree  which  used  to  grow  by  the  Ranee's  grave 
destroyed,  and  yet  the  Princesses  grow  no  thinner  nor 
look  more  sad,  though  they  never  eat  the  dinner  I  give 
them.  I  cannot  tell  how  it  is !" 

And  her  daughter  said,  "  I  will  watch." 

Next  day,  while  the  Princesses  were  eating  the  cream 
cake,  who  should  come  by  but  their  step-mother's 
daughter?  Balna  saw  her  first,  and  said,  "See,  sis- 
ters, there  comes  that  girl  again.  Let  us  sit  round  the 
edge  of  the  tank,  and  not  allow  her  to  see  it ;  for  if  we 
give  her  some  of  our  cake,  she  will  go  and  tell  her 
mother,  and  that  will  be  very  unfortunate  for  us." 

The  other  sisters,  however,  thought  Balna  unneces- 
sarily suspicious,  and  instead  of  following  her  advice, 
they  gave  the  Purdan's  daughter  some  of  the  cake,  and 
she  went  home  and  told  her  mother  all  about  it 

The  Ranee,  on  hearing  how  well  the  Princesses 
fared,  was  exceedingly  angry,  and  sent  her  servants  to 
pull  down  the  dead  Ranee's  tomb  and  fill  the  little 
tank  with  the  ruins.  And  not  content  with  this,  she 
next  day  pretended  to  be  very,  very  ill — in  fact,  at 
the  point  of  death ;  and  when  the  Rajah  was  much 
grieved,  and  asked  her  whether  it  was  in  his  power  to 
procure  her  any  remedy,  she  said  to  him :  "  Only  one 
thing  can  save  my  life,  but  I  know  you  will  not  do  it." 
He  replied,  "  Yes,  whatever  it  is,  I  will  do  it."  She 
then  said,  "  To  save  my  life,  you  must  kill  the  seven 
daughters  of  your  first  wife,  and  put  some  of  their 
blood  on  my  forehead  and  on  the  palms  of  my  hands. 


Punchkin.  33 

and  their  death  will  be  my  life."  At  these  words  the 
Rajah  was  very  sorrowful ;  but  because  he  feared  to 
break  his  word,  he  went  out  with  a  heavy  heart  to  find 
his  daughters. 

He  found  them  crying  by  the  ruins  of  their  mother's 
grave. 

Then,  feeling  he  could  not  kill  them,  the  Rajah 
spoke  kindly  to  them,  and  told  them  to  come  out  into 
the  jungle  with  him ;  and  there  he  made  a  fire  and 
cooked  some  rice,  and  gave  it  to  them.  But  in  the 
afternoon,  it  being  very  hot,  the  seven  Princesses  all 
fell  asleep,  and  when  he  saw  they  were  fast  asleep,  the 
Rajah,  their  father,  stole  away  and  left  them  (for  he 
feared  his  wife),  saying  to  himself:  "It  is  better  my 
poor  daughters  should  die  here  than  be  killed  by  their 
step-mother." 

He  then  shot  a  deer,  and  returning  home,  put  some 
of  the  blood  on  the  forehead  and  hands  of  the  Ranee, 
and  she  thought  then  that  he  had  really  killed  the 
Princesses,  and  said  she  felt  quite  well. 

Meantime  the  seven  Princesses  awoke,  and  when 
they  found  themselves  all  alone  in  the  thick  jungle  they 
were  much  frightened,  and  began  to  call  out  as  loud 
as  they  could,  in  hopes  of  making  their  father  hear ; 
but  he  was  by  that  time  far  away,  and  would  not  have 
been  able  to  hear  them,  even  had  their  voices  been  as 
loud  as  thunder. 

It  so  happened  that  this  very  day  the  seven  young 
sons  of  a  neighboring  Rajah  chanced  to  be  hunting  in 
that  same  jungle,  and  as  they  were  returning  home 
after  the  day's  sport  was  over,  the  youngest  Prince  said 
to  his  brothers :  "  Stop,  I  think  I  hear  some  one  crying 
and  calling  out.  Do  you  not  hear  voices  ?  Let  us  go 
B» 


^4  Old  Deccan  Days. 

in  the  direction  of  the  sound,  and  try  and  find  out  what 
it  is." 

So  the  seven  Princes  rode  through  the  wood  until 
they  came  to  the  place  where  the  seven  Princesses  sat 
crying  and  wringing  their  hands.  At  the  sight  of  them 
the  young  Princes  were  very  much  astonished,  and  still 
more  so  on  learning  their  story ;  and  they  settled  that 
each  should  take  one  of  these  poor  forlorn  ladies  home 
with  him  and  marry  her. 

So  the  first  and  eldest  Prince  took  the  eldest  Princes* 
home  with  him,  and  married  her. 

And  the  second  took  the  second  ; 

And  the  third  took  the  third  ; 

And  the  fourth  took  the  fourth  ; 

And  the  fifth  took  the  fifth  ; 

And  the  sixth  took  the  sixth ; 

And  the  seventh,  and  handsomest  of  all,  took  the 
beautiful  Balna. 

And  when  they  got  to  their  own  land,  there  was 
great  rejoicing  throughout  the  kingdom  at  the  mar- 
riage of  the  seven  young  Princes  to  seven  such  beau- 
tiful Princesses. 

About  a  year  after  this  Balna  had  a  little  son,  and 
his  uncles  and  aunts  were  all  so  fond  of  the  boy  that 
it  was  as  if  he  had  seven  fathers  and  seven  mothers. 
None  of  the  other  Princes  or  Princesses  had  any  chil- 
dren, so  the  son  of  the  seventh  Prince  and  Balna  was 
acknowledged  their  heir  by  all  the  rest. 

They  had  thus  lived  very  happily  for  some  time, 
when  one  fine  day  the  seventh  Prince  (Balna's  hus- 
band) said  he  would  go  out  hunting,  and  away  he 
went;  and  they  waited  long  for  him,  but  he  never 
came  back. 


Puncnxin.  35 

Then  his  six  brothers  said  they  would  go  and  see 
what  had  become  of  him ;  and  they  went  away,  but 
they  also  did  not  return. 

And  the  seven  Princesses  grieved  very  much,  for  they 
felt  sure  their  kind  husbands  must  have  been  killed. 

One  day,  not  long  after  this  had  happened,  as  Balna 
was  rocking  her  baby's  cradle,  and  whilst  her  sisters 
were  working  in  the  room  below,  there  came  to  the 
palace  door  a  man  in  a  long  black  dress,  who  said  that 
he  was  a  Fakeer,*  and  came  to  beg.  The  servants 
said  to  him,  "  You  cannot  go  into  the  palace — the  Ra 
jah's  sons  have  all  gone  away ;  we  think  they  must  be 
dead,  and  their  widows  cannot  be  interrupted  by  your 
begging."  But  he  said,  "  I  am  a  holy  man  ;  you  must 
let  me  in."  Then  the  stupid  servants  let  him  walk 
through  the  palace,  but  they  did  not  know  that  this 
man  was  no  Fakeer,  but  a  wicked  Magician  named 
Punchkin. 

Punchkin  Fakeer  wandered  through  the  palace,  and 
saw  many  beautiful  things  there,  till  at  last  he  reached 
the  room  where  Balna  sat  singing  beside  her  little  boy's 
cradle.  The  Magician  thought  her  more  beautiful  than 
all  the  other  beautiful  things  he  had  seen,  insomuch 
that  he  asked  her  to  go  home  with  him  and  to  marry 
him.  But  she  said,  "  My  husband,  I  fear,  is  dead,  but 
my  little  boy  is  still  quite  young  ;  I  will  stay  here  and 
teach  him  to  grow  up  a  clever  man,  and  when  he  is 
grown  up  he  shall  go  out  into  the  world,  and  try  and 
learn  tidings  of  his  father.  Heaven  forbid  that  I  should 
ever  leave  him  or  marry  you."  At  these  words  the 
Magician  was  very  angry,  and  turned  her  into  a  little 
black  dog,  and  led  her  away,  saying,  "  Since  you  will 
*  Holy  beggar. 


36  Old  Deccan  Days. 

not  come  with  me  of  your  own  free  will,  I  will  make 
you."  So  the  poor  Princess  was  dragged  away,  with- 
out any  power  of  effecting  an  escape,  or  of  letting  her 
sisters  know  what  had  become  of  her.  As  Punchkin 
passed  through  the  palace  gate  the  servants  said  to  him, 
"Where  did  you  get  that  pretty  little  dog?"  And  he 
answered,  "  One  of  the  Princesses  gave  it  to  me  as  a 
present."  At  hearing  which  they  let  him  go  without 
further  questioning. 

Soon  after  this  the  six  elder  Princesses  heard  the 
little  baby,  their  nephew,  begin  to  cry,  and  when  they 
went  up  stairs  they  were  much  surprised  to  find  him 
all  alone,  and  Balna  nowhere  to  be  seen.  Then  they 
questioned  the  servants,  and  when  they  heard  of  the 
Fakeer  and  the  little  black  dog,  they  guessed  what  had 
happened,  and  sent  in  every  direction  seeking  them, 
but  neither  the  Fakeer  nor  the  dog  were  to  be  found. 
What  could  six  poor  women  do  ?  They  had  to  give 
up  all  hopes  of  ever  seeing  their  kind  husbands,  and 
their  sister  and  her  husband  again,  and  they  devoted 
themselves  thenceforward  to  teaching  and  taking  care 
of  their  little  nephew. 

Thus  time  went  on,  till  Balna's  son  was  fourteen 
years  old.  Then  one  day  his  aunts  told  him  the  his- 
tory of  the  family ;  and  no  sooner  did  he  hear  it  than 
he  was  seized  with  a  great  desire  to  go  in  search  of  his 
father  and  mother  and  uncles,  and  bring  them  home 
again  if  he  could  find  them  alive.  His  aunts,  on  learn- 
ing his  determination,  were  much  alarmed  and  tried  to 
dissuade  him,  saying,  "We  have  lost  our  husbands, 
and  our  sister  and  her  husband,  and  you  are  now  our 
sole  hope ;  if  you  go  away,  what  shall  we  do  ?"  But 
he  replied,  "  I  pray  you  not  to  be  discouraged  ;  I  will 


Punchkin.  37 

return  soon,  and,  if  it  is  possible,  bring  my  father  and 
mother  and  uncles  with  me."  So  he  sat  out  on  his 
travels,  but  for  some  months  he  could  learn  nothing  to 
help  him  in  his  search. 

At  last,  after  he  had  Journeyed  many  hundreds  of  weary 
miles,  and  become  almost  hopeless  of  ever  being  able 
to  hear  anything  further  of  his  parents,  he  one  day  came 
to  a  country  which  seemed  full  of  stones  and  rocks  and 
trees,  and  there  he  saw  a  large  palace  with  a  high 
tower ;  hard  by  which  was  a  Malee's*  little  house. 

As  he  was  looking  about,  the  Malee's  wife  saw  him, 
and  ran  out  of  the  house  and  said,  "  My  dear  boy,  who 
are  you  that  dare  venture  to  this  dangerous  place  ?" 
And  he  answered,  "  I  am  a  Rajah's  son,  and  I  come  in 
search  of  my  father  and  my  uncles,  and  my  mother 
whom  a  wicked  enchanter  bewitched."  Then  the  Ma- 
lee's wife  said,  "  This  country  and  this  palace  belong  to 
a  great  Enchanter ;  he  is  all-powerful,  and  if  any  one 
displeases  him,  he  can  turn  them  into  stones  and  trees. 
All  the  rocks  and  trees  you  see  here  were  living  people 
once,  and  the  Magician  turned  them  to  what  they  now 
are.  Some  time  ago  a  Rajah's  son  came  here,  and 
shortly  afterward  came  his  six  brothers,  and  they  were 
all  turned  into  stones  and  trees  ;  and  these  are  not  the 
only  unfortunate  ones,  for  up  in  that  tower  lives  a  beau- 
tiful Princess,  whom  the  Magician  has  kept  prisoner 
there  for  twelve  years,  because  she  hates  him  and  will 
not  marry  him." 

Then  the  little  Prince  thought,  "  These  must  be  my 
parents  and  my  uncles.  I  have  found  what  I  seek  at 
last."  So  he  told  his  story  to  the  Malee's  wife,  and 
begged  her  to  help  him  to  remain  in  that  place  a  while* 

*  Gardener's. 
4 


38  Old  Deccan  Days. 

and  inquire  further  concerning  the  unhappy  people  sh« 
mentioned  ;  and  she  promised  to  befriend  him,  and  ad- 
vised his  disguising  himself,  lest  the  Magician  should 
see  him,  and  turn  him  likewise  into  stone.  To  this  the 
Prince  agreed.  So  the  Malee's  wife  dressed  him  up  in 
a  saree,*  and  pretended  that  he  was  her  daughter. 

One  day,  not  long  after  this,  as  the  Magician  was 
walking  in  his  garden,  he  saw  the  little  girl  (as  he 
thought)  playing  about,  and  asked  her  who  she  was. 
She  told  him  she  was  the  Malee's  daughter,  and  the 
Magician  said,  "  You  are  a  pretty  little  girl,  and  to- 
morrow you  shall  take  a  present  of  flowers  from  me  to 
the  beautiful  lady  who  lives  in  the  tower." 

The  young  Prince  was  much  delighted  at  hearing 
this,  and  after  some  consultation  with  the  Malee's  wife, 
he  settled  that  it  would  be  more  safe  for  him  to  retain 
his  disguise,  and  trust  to  the  chance  of  a  favorable  op- 
portunity for  establishing  some  communication  with  his 
mother,  if  it  were  indeed  she. 

Now  it  happened  that  at  Balna's  marriage  her  hus- 
band had  given  her  a  small  gold  ring,  on  which  her  name 
was  engraved,  and  she  put  it  on  her  little  son's  finger 
when  he  was  a  baby,  and  afterward,  when  he  was  older, 
his  aunts  had  had  it  enlarged  for  him,  so  that  he  was 
still  able  to  wear  it.  The  Malee's  wife  advised  him  to 
fasten  the  well-known  treasure  to  one  of  the  bouquets 
he  presented  to  his  mother,  and  trust  to  her  recognizing 
it.  This  was  not  to  be  done  without  difficulty,  as  such 
a  strict  watch  was  kept  over  the  poor  Princess  (for  fear 
of  her  ever  establishing  communication  with  her  friends) 
that  though  the  supposed  Malee's  daughter  was  permit- 
ted to  take  her  Bowers  every  day,  the  Magician  or  onr 
*  A  woman's  dress. 


Punchkin.  39 

of  his  slaves  was  always  in  the  room  at  the  time.  At 
last  one  day,  however,  opportunity  favored  him,  and 
when  no  one  was  looking  the  boy  tied  the  ring  to  a 
nosegay  and  threw  it  at  Balna's  feet.  The  ring  fe.* 
with  a  clang  on  the  floor,  and  Balna,  looking  to  see  what 
made  the  strange  sound,  found  the  little  ring  tied  to  the 
flowers.  On  recognizing  it,  she  at  once  believed  the 
story  her  son  told  her  of  his  long  search,  and  begged 
him  to  advise  her  as  to  what  she  had  better  do  ;  at  the 
same  time  entreating  him  on  no  account  to  endanger 
his  life  by  trying  to  rescue  her.  She  told  him  that  for 
twelve  long  years  the  Magician  had  kept  her  shut  up  in 
the  tower  because  she  refused  to  marry  him,  and  she 
was  so  closely  guarded  that  she  saw  no  hope  of  re- 
lease. 

Now  Balna's  son  was  a  bright,  clever  boy ;  so  he 
said,  "  Do  not  fear,  dear  mother ;  the  first  thing  to  do  is 
to  discover  how  far  the  Magician's  power  extends,  in 
order  that  we  may  be  able  to  liberate  my  father  and 
uncles,  whom  he  has  imprisoned  in  the  form  of  rocks 
and  trees.  You  have  spoken  to  him  angrily  for  twelve 
long  years  ;  do  you  now  rather  speak  kindly.  Tell  him 
you  have  given  up  all  hopes  of  again  seeing  the  hus- 
band you  have  so  long  mourned,  and  say  you  are  willing 
to  marry  him.  Then  endeavor  to  find  out  what  his 
power  consists  in,  and  whether  he  is  immortal  or  can 
be  put  to  death." 

Balna  determined  to  take  her  son's  advice ;  and  the 
next  day  sent  for  Punchkin  and  spoke  to  him  as  had 
been  suggested. 

The  Magician,  greatly  delighted,  begged  her  to  allow 
the  wedding  to  take  place  as  soon  as  possible. 

But  she  told  him  that  before  she  married  him  be 


40  Old  Deccan  Days. 

must  allow  her  a  little  more  time,  in  which  she  might 
make  his  acquaintance,  and,  that,  after  being  enemies 
so  long,  their  friendship  could  but  strengthen  by  de- 
grees. "  And  do  tell  me,"  she  said,  "  are  you  quite  im- 
mortal? Can  death  never  touch  you?  And  are  you 
too  great  an  enchanter  ever  to  feel  human  suffering?" 

"  Why  do  you  ask?"  said  he. 

"Because,"  she  replied,  "  if  I  am  to  be  your  wife,  I 
would  fain  know  all  about  you,  in  order,  if  any  calam- 
ity threatens  you,  to  overcome,  or,  if  possible,  to  avert 
it." 

"  It  is  true,"  he  said,  "  that  I  am  not  as  others.  Far, 
far  away,  hundreds  of  thousands  of  miles  from  this, 
there  lies  a  desolate  country  covered  with  thick  jungle. 
In  the  midst  of  the  jungle  grows  a  circle  of  palm  trees, 
and  in  the  centre  of  the  circle  stand  six  chattees  full  of 
water,  piled  one  above  another ;  below  the  sixth  chattee 
is  a  small  cage  which  contains  a  little  green  parrot :  on 
the  life  of  the  parrot  depends  my  life,  and  if  the  parrot 
is  killed  I  must  die.  It  is,  however,"  he  added,  "  im- 
possible that  the  parrot  should  sustain  any  injury,  both 
on  account  of  the  inaccessibility  of  the  country,  and  be- 
cause, by  my  appointment,  many  thousand  evil  genii 
surround  the  palm  trees,  and  kill  all  who  approach  the 
place." 

Balna  told  her  son  what  Punchkin  had  said,  but,  at 
the  same  time,  implored  him  to  give  up  all  idea  of  get- 
ting the  parrot. 

The  prince,  however,  replied,  "  Mother,  unless  I  can 
get  hold  of  that  parrot,  you  and  my  father  and  uncles 
cannot  be  liberated :  be  not  afraid,  I  will  shortly  return. 
Do  you,  meantime,  keep  the  Magician  in  good  humor — . 
still  putting  off  your  marriage  with  him  on  various  pre- 


Punchkin.  41 

texts ;  and  before  he  finds  out  the  cause  of  delay  I  will 
return."  So  saying,  he  went  away. 

Many,  many  weary  miles  did  he  travel,  till  at  last  he 
came  to  a  thick  jungle,  and  being  very  tired,  sat  down 
under  a  tree  and  fell  asleep.  He  was  awakened  by  a 
soft  rustling  sound,  and  looking  about  him,  saw  a  large 
serpent  which  was  making  its  way  to  an  eagle's  nest 
built  in  the  tree  under  which  he  lay,  and  in  the  nest 
were  two  young  eagles.  The  Prince,  seeing  the  dan- 
ger of  the  young  birds,  drew  his  sword  and  killed  the 
serpent ;  at  the  same  moment  a  rushing  sound  was 
heard  in  the  air,  and  the  two  old  eagles,  who  had  been 
out  hunting  for  food  for  their  young  ones,  returned. 
They  quickly  saw  the  dead  serpent  and  the  young 
Prince  standing  over  it ;  and  the  old  mother  eagle  said 
to  him,  "  Dear  boy,  for  many  years  all  our  young  have 
been  devoured  by  that  cruel  serpent:  you  have  now 
saved  the  lives  of  our  children ;  whenever  you  are  in 
need,  therefore,  send  to  us  and  we  will  help  you  ;  and 
as  for  these  little  eagles,  take  them,  and  let  them  be 
your  servants." 

At  this  the  Prince  was  very  glad,  and  the  two  eaglets 
crossed  their  wings,  on  which  he  mounted ;  and  they 
carried  him  far,  far  away  over  the  thick  jungles,  until 
he  came  to  the  place  where  grew  the  circle  of  palm 
trees,  in  the  midst  of  which  stood  the  six  chattees  full 
of  water.  It  was  the  middle  of  the  day.  All  round 
the  trees  were  the  genii  fast  asleep  :  nevertheless,  there 
were  such  countless  thousands  of  them  that  it  would 
have  been  quite  impossible  for  any  one  to  walk  through 
their  ranks  to  the  place.  Down  swooped  the  strong- 
winged  eaglets — down  jumped  the  prince :  in  an  instant 
he  had  overthrown  the  six  chattees  full  of  water,  and 
4» 


42  Old  Deccan  Days. 

seized  the  little  green  parrot,  which  he  rolled  up  in  hit 
cloak ;  while,  as  he  mounted  again  into  the  air,  all  the 
genii  below  awoke,  and,  rinding  their  treasure  gone, 
set  up  a  wild  and  melancholy  howl. 

Away,  away  flew  the  little  eagles  till  they  came  to 
their  home  in  the  great  tree ;  then  the  Prince  said  to 
the  old  eagles,  "  Take  back  your  little  ones ;  they  have 
done  me  good  service ;  if  ever  again  I  stand  in  need 
of  help,  I  will  not  fail  to  come  to  you."  He  then  con- 
tinued his  journey  on  foot  till  he  arrived  once  more  at 
the  Magician's  palace,  where  he  sat  down  at  the  door 
and  began  playing  with  the  parrot.  The  Magician 
saw  him,  and  came  to  him  quickly,  and  said,  "  My  boy, 
where  did  you  get  that  parrot  ?  Give  it  to  me,  I  pray 
you."  But  the  Prince  answered,  "  Oh  no,  I  cannot 
give  away  my  parrot ;  it  is  a  great  pet  of  mine  ;  I  have 
had  it  many  years."  Then  the  Magician  said,  "  If  it  is 
an  old  favorite,  I  can  understand  your  not  caring  to 
give  it  away ;  but  come,  what  will  you  sell  it  for  ?" 
"  Sir,"  replied  the  Prince,  "  I  will  not  sell  my  parrot." 

Then  the  Magician  got  frightened,  and  said,  "  Any- 
thing, anything ;  name  what  price  you  will,  and  it 
shall  be  yours."  "Then,"  the  Prince  answered,  "I 
will  that  you  liberate  the  Rajah's  seven  sons  who  you 
turned  into  rocks  and  trees."  "  It  is  done  as  you  de- 
sire," said  the  Magician,  "  only  give  me  my  parrot." 
(And  with  that,  by  a  stroke  of  his  wand,  Balna's  hus- 
band and  his  brothers  resumed  their  natural  shapes.) 
"Now  give  me  my  parrot,"  repeated  Punchkin.  "  Not 
so  fast,  my  master,"  rejoined  the  Prince  ;  "  I  must  first 
beg  that  you  will  restore  to  life  all  whom  you  have 
thus  imprisoned." 

The  Magician  immediately  waved  his  wand  again ; 


Punchkin.  43 

and  whilst  he  cried  in  an  imploring  voice,  "  Give  me 
my  parrot !"  the  whole  garden  became  suddenly  alive : 
where  rock  and  stones  and  trees  had  been  before,  stood 
Rajahs  and  Punts*  and  Sirdars,|  and  mighty  men  on 
prancing  horses,  and  jeweled  pages  and  troops  of 
armed  attendants. 

"  Give  me  my  parrot !"  cried  Punchkin.  Then  the 
boy  took  hold  of  the  parrot,  and  tore  off  one  of  his 
wings ;  and  as  he  did  so  the  Magician's  right  arm  fell 
off. 

Punchkin  then  stretched  out  his  left  arm,  crying, 
"  Give  me  my  parrot !"  The  Prince  pulled  off  the 
parrot's  second  wing,  and  the  Magician's  left  arm  tum- 
bled off. 

"  Give  me  my  parrot !"  cried  he,  and  fell  on  his 
knees.  The  Prince  pulled  off  the  parrot's  right  leg — 
the  Magician's  right  leg  fell  off:  the  Prince  pulled  off 
the  parrot* s  left  leg — down  fell  the  Magician's  left. 

Nothing  remained  of  him  save  the  limbless  body  and 
the  head  ;  but  still  he  rolled  his  eyes,  and  cried,  "  Give 
me  my  parrot !"  "  Take  your  parrot,  then,"  cried  the 
boy,  and  with  that  he  wrung  the  bird's  neck  and  threw 
it  at  the  Magician  ;  and  as  he  did  so,  Punchkin's  head 
twisted  round,  and  with  a  fearful  groan  he  died ! 

Then  they  let  Balna  out  of  the  tower ;  and  she,  hei 
son  and  the  seven  Princes  went  to  their  own  country, 
and  lived  very  happily  ever  afterward.  And  as  to 
the  rest  of  the  world,  every  one  went  to  his  own  house. 

*  Principal  ministers.  f  Nobles  or  chiefs. 


II. 

A    FUNNY   STORY. 

ONCE  upon  a  time  there  were  a  Rajah  and  Ranee 
who  were  much  grieved  because  they  had  no 
children,  and  the  little  dog  in  the  palace  had  also  no 
little  puppies.  At  last  the  Rajah  and  Ranee  had  some 
children,  and  it  also  happened  that  the  pet  dog  in  the 
palace  had  some  little  puppies ;  but,  unfortunately,  the 
Ranee's  two  children  were  two  little  puppies !  and  the 
dog's  two  little  puppies  were  two  pretty  little  girls ! 
This  vexed  her  majesty  very  much ;  and  sometimes 
when  the  dog  had  gone  away  to  its  dinner,  the  Ranee 
used  to  put  the  two  little  puppies  (her  children)  into 
the  kennel,  and  carry  away  the  dog's  two  little  girls  to 
the  palace.  Then  the  poor  dog  grew  very  unhappy,  and 
said,  "  They  never  will  leave  my  two  little  children 
alone.  I  must  take  them  away  into  the  jungle,  or 
their  lives  will  be  worried  out."  So  one  night  she  took 
the  little  girls  in  her  mouth  and  ran  with  them  to  the 
jungle,  and  there  made  them  a  home  in  a  pretty  cave 
in  the  rock,  beside  a  clear  stream  ;  and  every  day  she 
would  go  into  the  towns  and  carry  away  some  nice 
currie  and  rice  to  give  her  little  daughters ;  and  if  she 
found  any  pretty  clothes  or  jewels  that  she  could  bring 
away  in  her  mouth,  she  used  to  take  them  also  for  the 
children. 


A  Funny  Story.  45 

Now  it  happened  some  time  after  this,  one  day,  when 
the  dog  had  gone  to  fetch  her  daughters'  dinner,  two 
young  Princes  (a  Rajah  and  his  brother)  came  to  hunt 
in  the  jungle,  and  they  hunted  all  day  and  found  no- 
thing. It  had  been  very  hot,  and  they  were  thirsty ;  so 
they  went  to  a  tree  which  grew  on  a  little  piece  of  high 
ground,  and  sent  their  attendants  to  search  all  round 
for  water ;  but  no  one  could  find  any.  At  last  one  of 
the  hunting  dogs  came  to  the  foot  of  the  tree  quite 
muddy,  and  the  Rajah  said,  "  Look,  the  dog  is  muddy : 
he  must  have  found  water :  follow  him,  and  see  where 
he  goes."  The  attendants  followed  the  dog,  and  saw 
him  go  to  the  stream  at  the  mouth  of  the  cave  where 
the  two  children  were  ;  and  the  two  children  also  saw 
them,  and  were  very  much  frightened  and  ran  inside 
the  cave.  Then  the  attendants  returned  to  the  two 
Princes,  and  said,  "We  have  found  clear,  sparkling 
water  flowing  past  a  cave,  and,  what  is  more,  within 
the  cave  are  two  of  the  most  lovely  young  ladies  that 
eye  ever  beheld,  clothed  in  fine  dresses  and  covered 
with  jewels ;  but  when  they  saw  us  they  were  fright- 
ened and  ran  away."  On  hearing  this  the  Princes 
bade  their  servants  lead  them  to  the  place ;  and  when 
they  saw  the  two  young  girls,  they  were  quite  charmed 
with  them,  and  asked  them  to  go  to  their  kingdom  and 
become  their  wives.  The  maidens  were  frightened; 
but  at  last  the  Rajah  and  his  brother  persuaded  them, 
and  they  went,  and  the  Rajah  married  the  eldest  sister, 
and  his  brother  married  the  youngest. 

When  the  dog  returned,  she  was  grieved  to  find  her 
children  gone,  and  for  twelve  long  years  the  poor  thing 
ran  many,  many  miles  to  find  them,  but  in  vain.  At 
last  one  day  she  came  to  the  place  where  the  two  Prin- 


46  Old  Deccan  Days. 

cesses  lived.  Now  it  chanced  that  the  eldest,  the  wife 
of  the  Rajah,  was  looking  out  of  the  window,  and  see- 
ing the  dog  run  down  the  street,  she  said,  "  That 
must  be  my  dear  long-lost  mother."  So  she  ran  into 
the  street  as  fast  as  possible,  and  took  the  tired  dog  in 
her  arms,  and  brought  her  into  her  own  room,  and 
made  her  a  nice  comfortable  bed  on  the  floor,  and 
bathed  her  feet,  and  was  very  kind  to  her.  Then  the 
dog  said  to  her,  "My  daughter,  you  are  good  and 
kind,  and  it  is  a  great  joy  to  me  to  see  you  again  ;  but 
I  must  not  stay ;  I  will  first  go  and  see  your  younger 
sister,  and  then  return."  The  Ranee  answered,  "  Do 
not  do  so,  dear  mother ;  rest  here  to-day ;  to-morrow  I 
will  send  and  let  my  sister  know,  and  she,  too,  will 
come  and  see  you."  But  the  poor,  silly  dog  would 
not  stay,  but  ran  to  the  house  of  her  second  daughter. 
Now  the  second  daughter  was  looking  out  of  the  win- 
dow when  the  unfortunate  creature  came  to  the  door, 
and  seeing  the  dog  she  said  to  herself,  "  That  must 
be  my  mother.  What  will  my  husband  think  if  he 
learns  that  this  wretched,  ugly,  miserable-looking  dog 
is  my  mother  ?"  So  she  ordered  her  servants  to  go  and 
throw  stones  at  it,  and  drive  it  away,  and  they  did  so ; 
and  one  large  stone  hit  the  dog's  head,  and  she  ran 
back,  very  much  hurt,  to  her  eldest  daughter's  house. 
The  Ranee  saw  her  coming,  and  ran  out  into  the  street 
and  brought  her  in  in  her  arms,  and  did  all  she  could 
to  make  her  well,  saying,  "Ah,  mother,  mother !  why 
did  you  ever  leave  my  house  ?"  But  all  her  care  was 
in  vain :  the  poor  dog  died.  Then  the  Ranee  thought 
her  husband  might  be  vexed  if  he  found  a  dead  dog 
(an  unclean  animal)  in  the  palace  ;  so  she  put  the  body 
in  a  small  room  into  which  the  Rajah  hardly  ever  went, 


A  Funny  Story.  47 

intending  to  have  it  reverently  buried ;  and  over  it  she 
placed  a  basket  turned  topsy-turvy. 

I*  so  happened,  however,  that  when  the  Rajah  came 
to  visit  his  wife,  as  chance  would  have  it,  he  went 
through  this  very  room :  and  tripping  over  the  up- 
turned basket,  called  for  a  light  to  see  what  it  was. 
Then,  lo  and  behold !  there  lay  the  statue  of  a  dog,  life 
size,  composed  entirely  of  diamonds,  emeralds,  and 
other  precious  stones,  set  in  gold !  So  he  called  out  to 
his  wife,  and  said,  "Where  did  you  get  this  beautiful 
dog?"  And  when  the  Ranee  saw  the  golden  dog,  she 
was  very  much  frightened,  and,  I'm  sorry  to  say,  in 
stead  of  telling  her  husband  the  truth,  she  told  a  story, 
and  said,  "  Oh,  it  is  only  a  present  my  parents  sent 
me." 

Now  see  what  trouble  she  got  into  for  not  telling  the 
truth. 

"  Only !"  said  the  Rajah;  "why  this  is  valuable 
enough  to  buy  the  whole  of  my  kingdom.  Your  pa- 
rents must  be  very  rich  people  to  be  able  to  send  you 
such  presents  as  this.  How  is  it  you  never  told  me  of 
them?  Where  do  they  live?"  (Now  she  had  to  tell 
another  story  to  cover  the  first.)  She  said,  "  In  the 
jungle."  He  replied,  "  I  will  go  and  see  them  ;  you 
must  take  me  and  show  where  they  live."  Then  the 
Ranee  thought,  "  What  will  the  Rajah  say  when  he 
finds  I  have  been  telling  him  such  stories  ?  He  will 
order  my  head  to  be  cut  off."  So  she  said,  "You 
must  first  give  me  a  palanquin,  and  I  will  go  into  the 
jungle  and  tell  them  you  are  coming ;"  but  really  she 
determined  to  kill  herself,  and  so  get  out  of  her  difficul- 
ties. Away  she  went ;  and  when  she  had  gone  some 
distance  in  her  palanquin,  she  saw  a  large  white  ante* 


48  Old  Deccan  Days. 

nest,  over  which  hung  a  cobra,  with  its  mouth  wide 
open;  then  the  Ranee  thought,  "I  will  go  to  that 
cobra  and  put  my  finger  in  his  mouth,  that  he  may  bite 
me,  and  so  I  shall  die."  So  she  ordered  the  palkee- 
bearers  to  wait,  and  said  she  would  be  back  in  a  while, 
and  got  out,  and  ran  to  the  ants'  nest,  and  put  her 
finger  in  the  cobra's  mouth.  Now  a  large  thorn  had 
run,  a  short  time  before,  into  the  cobra's  throat,  and 
hurt  him  very  much ;  and  the  Ranee,  by  putting  her 
finger  into  his  mouth,  pushed  out  this  thorn  ;  then  the 
cobra,  feeling  much  better,  turned  to  her,  and  said, 
"  My  dear  daughter,  you  have  done  me  a  great  kind- 
ness ;  what  return  can  I  make  you  ?"  The  Ranee  told 
him  all  her  story,  and  begged  him  to  bite  her,  that  she 
might  die.  But  the  cobra  said,  "You  did  certainly 
very  wrong  to  tell  the  Rajah  that  story ;  nevertheless, 
you  have  been  very  kind  to  me.  I  will  help  you  in 
your  difficulty.  Send  your  husband  here.  I  will  pro- 
vide you  with  a  father  and  mother  of  whom  you  need 
not  be  ashamed."  So  the  Ranee  returned  joyfully  to 
the  palace,  and  invited  her  husband  to  come  and  see 
her  parents. 

When  they  reached  the  spot  near  where  the  cobra 
was,  what  a  wonderful  sight  awaited  them  !  There,  in 
the  place  which  had  before  been  thick  jungle,  stood  a 
splendid  palace,  twenty-four  miles  long  and  twenty- 
four  miles  broad,  with  gardens  and  trees  and  fountain* 
all  round  ;  and  the  light  shining  from  it  was  to  be  seen 
a  hundred  miles  off.  The  walls  were  made  of  gold  and 
precious  stones,  and  the  carpets  cloth  of  gold.  Hun- 
dreds of  servants,  in  rich  dresses,  stood  waiting  in  the 
long,  lofty  rooms ;  and  in  the  last  room  of  all,  upon 
golden  thrones,  sat  a  magnificent  old  Rajah  and  Ranee, 


A  Funny  Story.  49 

who  introduced  themselves  to  the  young  Rajah  as  his 
papa  and  mamma-in-law.  The  Rajah  and  Ranee 
stayed  at  the  palace  six  months,  and  were  entertained 
the  whole  of  that  time  with  feasting  and  music ;  and 
they  left  for  their  own  home  loaded  with  presents.  Be- 
fore they  started,  however,  the  Ranee  went  to  her  friend, 
the  cobra,  and  said,  "You  have  conjured  up  all  these 
beautiful  things  to  get  me  out  of  my  difficulties,  but  my 
husband,  the  Rajah,  has  enjoyed  his  visit  so  much  that 
he  will  certainly  want  to  come  here  again.  Then,  if  he 
returns  and  finds  nothing  at  all,  he  will  be  very  angry 
with  me."  The  friendly  cobra  answered,  "Do  not 
fear.  When  you  have  gone  twenty-four  miles  on  your 
journey,  look  back,  and  see  what  you  will  see."  So 
they  started  ;  and  on  looking  back  at  the  end  of  twenty- 
four  miles,  saw  the  whole  of  the  splendid  palace  in 
flames,  the  fire  reaching  up  to  heaven.  The  Rajah  re- 
turned to  see  it  he  could  help  anybody  to  escape,  or 
invite  them  in  their  distress  to  his  court ;  but  he  found 
that  all  was  burnt  down — not  a  stone  nor  a  living  crea- 
ture remained ! 

Then  he  grieved  much  over  the  sad  fate  of  his  pa- 
rents-in-law. 

When  the  party  returned  home,  the  Rajah's  brother 
said  to  him,  "Where  did  you  get  these  magnificent 
presents?"  He  replied,  "They  are  gifts  from  my 
father  and  mother-in-law."  At  this  news  the  Rajah's 
brother  went  home  to  his  wife  very  discontented,  and 
asked  her  why  she  had  never  told  him  of  her  parents, 
and  taken  him  to  see  them,  whereby  he  might  have  re- 
ceived rich  gifts  as  well  as  his  brother.  His  wife  then 
went  to  her  sister,  and  asked  how  she  had  managed  to 
get  all  the  things.  But  the  Ranee  said,  "  Go  away, 
6  .0 


jo  Old  Deccan  Days. 

you  wicked  woman.  I  will  not  speak  to  you.  You 
killed  the  poor  dog,  our  mother." 

But  afterward  she  told  her  all  about  it. 

The  sister  then  said,  "  I  shall  go  and  see  the  cobra, 
and  get  presents  too."  The  Ranee  then  answered, — 
"  You  can  go  if  you  like." 

So  the  sister  ordered  her  palanquin,  and  tol'J  her  hus- 
band she  was  going  to  see  her  parents,  and  prepare  them 
for  a  visit  from  him.  When  she  reached  the  ants'  nest, 
she  saw  the  cobra  there,  and  she  went  and  put  her  fin- 
ger in  his  mouth,  and  the  cobra  bit  her,  and  she  died. 


III. 

BRAVE    SEVENTEE    BAI. 

SIU  RAJAH,*  who  reigned  long  years  ago  in  the 
country  of  Agrabrum,  had  an  only  son,  to  whom 
he   was  passionately  attached.      The    Prince,   whose 
name  was  Logedas,  was  young  and  handsome,  and  had 
married  the  beautiful  Princess,  Parbuttee  Bai. 

Now  it  came  to  pass  that  Siu  Rajah's  Wuzeerf  had 
a  daughter  called  Seventee  Bai  (the  Daisy  Lady),  who 
was  as  fair  as  the  morning,  and  beloved  by  all  for  her 
gentleness  and  goodness ;  and  when  Logedas  Rajah 
saw  her,  he  fell  in  love  with  her,  and  determined  to 
marry  her.  But  when  Siu  Rajah  heard  of  this  he  was 
very  angry,  and  sent  for  his  son,  and  said :  "  Of  all 
that  is  rich  and  costly  in  my  kingdom  I  have  withheld 
nothing  from  you,  and  in  Parbuttee  Bai  you  have  a  wife 
as  fair  as  heart  could  wish ;  nevertheless,  if  you  are 
des'xous  of  having  a  second  wife,  I  freely  give  you 
leave  to  do  so  ;  there  are  daughters  of  many  neighbor- 
ing kings  who  would  be  proud  to  become  your  Queen, 
but  it  is  beneath  your  dignity  to  marry  a  Wuzeer's 
daughter ;  and,  if  you  do,  my  love  for  you  shall  not 
prevent  my  expelling  you  from  the  kingdom."  Loge- 
das did  not  heed  his  father's  threat,  and  he  married 
Seventee  Bai ;  which  the  Rajah  learning,  ordered  him 
*  Or  Singh  Rajah,  the  Lion  King.  f  Or  Vizier. 


53  Old  Deccan  Days. 

immediately  to  quit  the  country ;  but  yet,  because  he 
loved  him  much,  he  gave  Logedas  many  elephants, 
camels,  horses,  palanquins  and  attendants,  that  he 
might  not  need  help  on  the  journey,  and  that  his  rank 
might  be  apparent  to  all. 

So  Logedas  Rajah  and  his  two  young  wives  set  forth 
on  their  travels.  Before,  however,  they  had  gone  very 
far,  the  Prince  dismissed  the  whole  of  his  retinue,  ex- 
cept the  elephant  on  which  he  himself  rode,  and  the 
palanquin,  carried  by  two  men,  in  which  his  wives 
traveled.  Thus,  almost  alone,  he  started  through  the 
jungle  in  search  of  a  new  home  ;  but,  being  wholly  ig- 
norant of  that  part  of  the  country,  before  they  had  gone 
very  far  they  lost  their  way.  The  poor  Princesses 
were  reduced  to  a  state  of  great  misery ;  day  after  day 
they  wandered  on,  living  on  roots  or  wild  berries  and 
the  leaves  of  trees  pounded  down ;  and  by  night  they 
were  terrified  by  the  cries  of  wild  beasts  in  search  ot 
prey.  Logedas  Rajah  became  more  melancholy  and 
desponding  every  day  ;  until,  one  night,  maddened  by 
the  thought  of  his  wives'  sad  condition,  and  unable 
longer  to  bear  the  sight  of  their  distress,  he  got  up, 
and  casting  aside  his  royal  robes,  twisted  a  coarse  hand- 
kerchief about  his  head,  after  the  manner  of  a  fakeer's 
(holy  beggar's)  turban,  and  throwing  a  woolen  cloak 
around  him,  ran  away  in  disguise  into  the  jungle. 

A  little  while  after  he  had  gone,  the  Wuzeer's 
daughter  awoke  and  found  Parbuttee  Bai  crying  bitterly. 
"  Sister  dear,"  said  she,  "  what  is  the  matter?"  "  Ah, 
sister,"  answered  Parbuttee  Bai,  "  I  am  crying  because 
in  my  dreams  I  thought  our  husband  had  dressed  him- 
self like  a  fakeer  and  run  away  into  the  jungle  ;  and  I 
awoke,  and  found  it  was  all  true :  he  has  gone,  and  left 


Brave  Seventee  Bai.  53 

us  here  alone.  It  would  have  been  better  we  had  died 
than  that  such  a  misfortune  should  have  befallen  us." 
"  D3  riot  cry,"  said  Seventee  Bai :  "  if  we  cry  we  are 
lost,  for  the  palkee-bearers*  will  think  we  are  only  two 
weak  women,  and  will  run  away,  and  leave  us  in  the 
iungle,  out  of  which  we  can  never  get  by  ourselves. 
Keep  a  cheerful  mind,  and  all  will  be  well ;  who 
knows  but  we  may  yet  find  our  husband  ?  Meanwhile, 
I  will  dress  myself  in  his  clothes,  and  take  the  name  of 
Seventee  Rajah,  and  you  shall  be  my  wife ;  and  the 
palkee-bearers  will  think  it  is  only  I  that  have  been 
lost ;  and  it  will  not  seem  very  wonderful  to  them  that  in 
such  a  place  as  this  a  wild  beast  should  have  devoured 
me." 

Then  Parbuttee  Bai  smiled  and  said,  "  Sister,  you 
speak  well ;  you  have  a  brave  heart.  I  will  be  your  lit- 
tle wife." 

So  Seventee  Bai  dressed  herself  in  her  husband's 
clothes,  and  next  day  she  mounted  the  elephant  as  he 
had  done,  and  ordered  the  bearers  to  take  up  the  palkee 
in  which  Parbuttee  Bai  was,  and  again  attempt  to  find 
their  way  out  of  the  jungle.  The  palkee-bearers  won- 
dered much  to  themselves  what  had  become  of  Seven- 
tee  Bai,  and  they  said  to  one  another,  "  How  selfish 
and  how  fickle  are  the  rich !  See  now  our  young 
Rajah,  who  married  the  Wuzeer's  daughter  and  brought 
all  this  trouble  on  himself  thereby  (and  in  truth  'tis  said 
she  was  a  beautiful  lady),  he  seemed  to  love  her  as  his 
own  soul ;  but  now  that  she  has  been  devoured  by  some 
cruel  animal  in  this  wild  jungle,  he  appears  scarcely  to 
mourn  her  death." 

After  journeying  for  some  days  under  the  wise  direc- 
*  /. «.,  palanquin-bearers. 


54  Old  Deccan  Days. 

tion  of  the  Wuzeer's  daughter,  the  party  fc<jnd  them- 
selves getting  out  of  the  jungle,  and  at  last  they  came 
to  an  open  plain,  in  the  middle  of  which  WAS  a  large 
city.  When  the  citizens  saw  the  elephant  coming  they 
ran  out  to  see  who  was  on  it,  and  returning,  told  their 
Rajah  that  a  very  handsome  Rajah,  richly  dressed,  was 
riding  toward  the  city,  and  that  he  brought  with  him 
his  wife — a  most  lovely  Princess.  Whereupon  the 
Rajah  of  that  country  sent  to  Seventee  Bai,  and  asked 
her  who  she  was,  and  why  she  had  come  ?  Seventee 
Bai  replied,  "  My  name  is  Seventee  Rajah.  My  father 
was  angry  with  me,  and  drove  me  from  his  kingdom  ; 
and  I  and  my  wife  have  been  wandering  for  many  days 
in  the  jungle,  where  we  lost  our  way." 

The  Rajah  and  all  his  court  thought  they  had  never 
seen  so  brave  and  royal-looking  a  Prince ;  and  the  Ra- 
jah said  that  if  Seventee  Rajah  would  take  service 
under  him,  he  would  give  him  as  much  money  as  he 
liked.  To  whom  the  Wuzeer's  daughter  replied :  "  I 
am  not  accustomed  to  take  service  under  anybody ;  but 
you  are  good  to  us  in  receiving  us  courteously  and  offer- 
ing us  your  protection ;  therefore,  give  me  whatever 
post  you  please,  and  I  will  be  your  faithful  servant." 
So  the  Rajah  gave  Seventee  Bai  a  salary  of  £24,000  a- 
year  and  a  beautiful  house,  and  treated  her  with  the 
greatest  confidence,  consulting  her  in  all  matters  of  im- 
portance, and  entrusting  her  with  many  state  affairs ; 
and  from  her  gentleness  and  kindness,  none  felt  envious 
at  her  good  fortune,  but  she  was  beloved  and  honored 
by  all ;  and  thus  these  two  Princesses  lived  for  twelve 
years  in  that  city.  No  one  suspected  that  Seventee 
Bai  was  not  the  Rajah  she  pretended  to  be,  and  she 
iiost  strictly  forbade  Parbuttee  Bai's  making  a  great 


Brave  Seventee  Bat.  55 

friend  of  anybody,  or  admitting  any  one  to  her  confi- 
dence ;  for,  she  said,  "  Who  knows,  then,  but  some 
day  you  may,  unawares,  reveal  that  I  am  only  Seven 
tee  Bai ;  and,  though  I  love  you  as  my  very  sister,  if 
that  were  told  by  you,  I  would  kill  you  with  my  own 
hands." 

Now  the  King's  palace  was  on  the  side  of  the  city 
nearest  to  the  jungle,  and  one  night  the  Ranee  was 
awakened  by  loud  and  piercing  shrieks  coming  from 
that  direction  ;  so  she  woke  her  husband,  and  said,  "  I 
am  so  frightened  by  that  terrible  noise  that  I  cannot 
sleep.  Send  some  one  to  see  what  is  the  matter."  And 
the  Rajah  called  all  his  attendants,  and  said,  "  Go  down 
toward  the  jungle  and  see  what  that  noise  is  about." 
But  they  were  all  afraid,  for  the  night  was  very  dark, 
and  the  noise  very  dreadful,  and  they  said  to  him : 
"  We  are  afraid  to  go.  We  dare  not  do  so  by  ourselves. 
Send  for  this  young  Rajah  who  is  such  a  favorite  of 
yours,  and  tell  him  to  go.  He  is  brave.  You  pay  him 
more  than  you  do  us  all.  What  is  the  good  of  your 
paying  him  so  much,  unless  he  can  be  of  use  when  he 
is  wanted  ?"  So  they  all  went  to  Seventee  Bai's  house, 
and  when  she  heard  what  was  the  matter,  she  jumped 
up,  and  said  she  would  go  down  to  the  jungle  and  see 
what  the  noise  was. 

This  noise  had  been  made  by  a  Rakshas,*  who  was 
standing  under  a  gallows  on  which  a  thief  had  been 
hanged  the  day  before.  He  had  been  trying  to  reach 
the  corpse  with  his  cruel  claws  ;  but  it  was  just  too  high 
for  him,  and  he  was  howling  with  rage  and  disappoint- 

*  Gigantic  demoniacal  ogres,  who  can  at  will  assume  any 
shape.  Their  chief  terrestrial  delight  is  said  to  be  digging  dead 
bodies  out  of  their  graves  and  devouring  them. 


56  Old  Deccan  Days. 

meat.  When,  however,  the  Wuzeer's  daughter  reached 
the  place,  no  Rakshas  was  to  be  seen  ;  but  in  his  stead 
a  very  old  woman,  in  a  wonderful  glittering  saree,  sit- 
ting wringing  her  withered  hands  under  the  gallows 
tree,  and  above,  the  corpse,  swaying  about  in  the  night 
wind.  "  Old  woman,"  said  Seventee  Bai,  "  what  is 
the  matter?"  "Alas!"  said  the  Rakshas  (for  it  was 
he),  "  my  son  hangs  above  on  that  gallows.  He  is 
dead,  he  is  dead !  and  I  am  too  bent  with  age  to  be  able 
to  reach  the  rope  and  cut  his  body  down."  "  Poor  old 
woman  !"  said  Seventee  Bai ;  "  get  upon  my  shoulders, 
and  you  will  then  be  tall  enough  to  reach  your  son." 
So  the  Rakshas  mounted  on  Seventee  Bai's  shoulders, 
who  held  him  steady  by  his  glittering  saree.  Now,  as 
she  stood  there,  Seventee  Bai  began  to  think  the  old 
woman  was  a  very  long  time  cutting  the  rope  round  the 
dead  man's  neck ;  and  just  at  that  moment  the  moon 
shone  out  from  behind  a  cloud,  and  Seventee  Bai,  looking 
up,  saw  that  instead  of  a  feeble  old  woman,  she  was 
supporting  on  her  shoulders  a  Rakshas,  who  was  tear- 
ing down  portions  of  the  flesh  and  devouring  it.  Hor- 
ror-stricken, she  sprang  back,  and  with  a  shrill  scream 
the  Rakshas  fled  away,  leaving  in  her  hands  the  shin- 
ing saree. 

Seventee  Bai  did  not  choose  to  say  anything  about 
this  adventure  to  the  Ranee,  not  wishing  to  alarm  her ; 
so  she  merely  returned  to  the  palace,  and  said  that  the 
noise  was  made  by  an  old  woman  whom  she  had  found 
crying  under  the  gallows.  She  then  returned  home, 
and  gave  the  bright  saree  to  Parbuttee  Bai. 

One  fine  day,  some  time  after  this,  two  of  the 
Rajah's  little  daughters  thought  they  would  go  and  see 
Parbuttee  Bai ;  and  as  it  happened,  Parbuttee  Bai  had 


Brave  Seventee  Bat.  57 

on  the  Rakshas'  saree,  and  was  standing  by  the  half- 
closed  window  shutters  looking  out,  when  the  Prin 
cesses  arrived  at  her  house.  The  little  Princesses  were 
quite  dazzled  by  the  golden  saree,  and  running  home 
said  to  their  mother,  "  That  young  Rajah's  wife  has  the 
most  beautiful  saree  we  ever  saw.  It  shines  like  the 
sun,  and  dazzles  one's  eyes.  We  have  no  sarees  half 
so  beautiful,  and  although  you  are  Ranee,  you  have 
none  so  rich  as  that.  Why  do  you  not  get  one  too  ?" 

When  the  Ranee  heard  about  Parbuttee  Bai's  saree 
she  was  very  eager  to  have  one  like  it ;  and  she  said  to 
the  Rajah,  "  Your  servant's  wife  is  dressed  more  richly 
than  your  Ranee.  I  hear  Parbuttee  Bai  has  a  saree 
more  costly  than  any  of  mine.  Now,  therefore,  I  beg 
you  to  get  me  one  like  hers ;  for  I  cannot  rest  until  I 
have  one  equally  costly." 

Then  the  Rajah  sent  for  Seventee  Bai,  and  said, 
"  Tell  me  where  your  wife  got  her  beautiful  golden 
saree ;  for  the  Ranee  desires  to  have  one  like  it." 
Seventee  Bai  answered,  "  Noble  master,  that  saree  came 
from  a  very  far  country — even  the  country  of  the  Rak- 
shas. It  is  impossible  to  get  one  like  it  here ;  but  if 
you  give  me  leave  I  will  go  and  search  for  their  coun- 
try, and,  if  I  succeed  in  finding  it,  bring  you  home 
sarees  of  the  same  kind."  And  the  Rajah  was  very 
much  pleased,  and  ordered  Seventee  Bai  to  go.  So 
she  returned  to  her  house  and  bade  good-bye  to  Par- 
buttee Bai,  and  warned  her  to  be  discreet  and  cautious ; 
and  then,  mounting  her  horse,  rode  away  in  search  of 
the  Rakshas'  country. 

Seventee  Bai   traveled  for  many  days  through  the 
jungle,  going  one  hundred  miles  every  day,  and  stay- 
ing to  rest  every  now  and  then  at  little  villages  on  her 
0» 


58  Old  Deccan  Days. 

road.  At  last  one  day,  after  having  gone  several  hun 
dred  miles,  she  came  to  a  fine  city  situated  on  the  banks 
of  a  beautiful  river,  and  on  the  city  walls  a  proclama- 
tion was  painted  in  large  letters.  Seventee  Bai  in- 
quired of  the  people  what  u  meant,  who  told  her  that 
it  was  to  say  the  Rajah's  daughter  would  marry  any 
man  who  could  tame  a  certain  pony  belonging  to  her 
father,  which  was  very  vicious.  f 

"  Has  no  one  been  able  to  manage  it  ?"  asked  Sev- 
entee Bai.  "  No  one,"  they  said.  "  Many  have  tried, 
but  failed  miserably.  The  pony  was  born  on  the  same 
day  as  the  Princess.  It  is  so  fierce  that  no  one  can  ap- 
proach it ;  but  when  the  Princess  heard  how  wild  it 
it  was,  she  vowed  she  would  marry  no  one  who  could 
not  tame  it.  Every  one  who  likes  is  free  to  try." 
Then  Seventee  Bai  said,  "  Show  me  the  pony  to- 
morrow. I  think  I  shall  be  able  to  tame  it."  They 
answered,  "  You  can  try  if  you  like,  but  it  is  very  dan- 
gerous, and  you  are  but  a  youth."  She  replied,  "  God 
gives  his  strength  to  the  weak.  I  do  not  fear."  So 
she  went  to  sleep,  and  early  next  morning  they  beat  a 
drum  all  round  the  town  to  let  every  one  know  that 
another  man  was  going  to  try  and  tame  the  Rajah's 
pony,  and  all  the  people  flocked  out  of  their  houses  to 
see  the  sight.  The  pony  was  in  a  field  near  the  river, 
and  Seventee  Bai  ran  up  to  it,  as  it  came  running  to- 
ward her  intending  to  trample  her  to  death,  and  seized 
it  firmly  by  the  mane,  so  that  it  could  neither  strike  her 
with  its  fore  legs  nor  kick  her.  The  pony  tried  to 
shake  her  off,  but  Seventee  Bai  clung  firmly  on,  and 
finally  lumped  on  its  back ;  and  when  the  pony  found 
that  it  was  mastered,  it  became  quite  gentle  and  tame. 
Then  Seventee  Bai,  to  show  how  completely  she  had 


Brave  Seventee  Bai.  59 

conquered,  put  spurs  to  the  pony  to  make  it  jump  the 
river,  and  the  pony  immediately  sprang  up  in  the  air  and 
right  across  the  river  (which  was  a  jump  of  three  miles), 
and  this  it  did  three  times  (for  it  was  strong  and  agile, 
and  had  never  been  ridden  before)  ;  and  when  all  the 
people  saw  this  they  shouted  for  joy,  and  ran  down  to 
the  river  bank  and  brought  Seventee  Bai,  riding  in  tri- 
umph on  the  pony,  to  see  the  Rajah.  And  the  Rajah 
said,  "  Oh,  best  of  men,  and  worthy  of  all  honor,  you 
have  won  my  daughter."  So  he  took  Seventee  Bai  to 
the  palace  and  paid  her  great  honor,  and  gave  her 
jewels  and  rich  clothes,  and  horses  and  camels  innu 
merable.  The  Princess  also  came  to  greet  the  winner 
of  her  hand.  Then  they  said,  "  To-morrow  shall  be  the 
wedding  day."  But  Seventee  Bai  replied,  "  Great 
Rajah  and  beautiful  Princess,  I  am  going  on  an  import 
ant  errand  of  my  own  Rajah's ;  let  me,  I  pray  you, 
first  accomplish  the  duty  on  which  I  am  bound,  and  on 
my  way  home  I  will  come  through  this  city  and  claim 
my  bride."  At  this  they  were  both  pleased,  and  the 
Rajah  said,  "  It  is  well  spoken.  Do  not  let  us  hinder 
your  keeping  faith  with  your  own  Rajah.  Go  your 
way.  We  shall  eagerly  await  your  return,  when  you 
shall  claim  the  Princess  and  all  your  possessions,  and 
we  will  have  such  a  gay  wedding  as  was  not  since  the 
world  began."  And  they  went  out  with  her  to  the 
borders  of  their  land,  and  showed  her  on  her  way. 

So  the  Wuzeer's  daughter  traveled  on  in  search  of 
the  Rakshas'  country,  until  at  last  one  day  she  came  in 
sight  of  another  fine  large  town.  Here  she  rested  in 
the  house  for  travelers  for  some  days.  Now  the  Rajah 
of  this  country  had  a  very  beautiful  daughter,  who  wa« 
his  only  child,  and  for  her  he  had  built  a  splendid  bath. 


60  Old  Deccan  Days. 

It  was  like  a  little  sea,  and  had  high  marble  walls  all 
Around,  with  a  hedge  of  spikes  at  the  top  of  the  walls, 
so  high  that  at  a  distance  it  looked  like  a  great  castle. 
The  young  Princess  was  very  fond  of  it,  and  she  vowed 
she  would  only  marry  a  man  who  could  jump  across 
her  bath  on  horseback.  This  had  happened  some 
years  before,  but  no  one  had  been  able  to  do  it,  which 
grieved  the  Rajah  and  Ranee  very  much ;  for  they 
wished  to  see  their  daughter  happily  married.  And 
they  said  to  her,  "  We  shall  both  be  dead  before  you 
get  a  husband.  What  folly  is  this,  to  expect  that  any 
one  should  be  able  to  jump  over  those  high  marble 
walls,  with  the  spikes  at  the  top  !"  The  Princess  only 
answered,  "  Then  I  will  never  marry.  It  matters  not ; 
I  will  never  have  a  husband  who  has  not  jumped 
those  walls." 

So  the  Rajah  caused  it  to  be  proclaimed  throughout 
the  land  that  he  would  give  his  daughter  in  marriage, 
and  great  riches,  to  whoever  could  jump,  on  horseback, 
over  the  Princess'  bath. 

All  this  Seventee  Bai  learnt  as  soon  as  she  arrived 
in  the  town,  and  she  said,  "  To-morrow  I  will  try  and 
jump  over  the  Princess'  bath."  The  country  people 
said  to  her,  "  You  speak  foolishly :  it  is  quite  impos- 
sible." She  replied,  "  Heaven,  in  which  I  trust,  will 
help  me."  So  next  day  she  rose  up,  and  saddled  her 
horse,  and  led  him  in  front  of  the  palace,  and  there  she 
sprang  on  his  back,  and  going  at  full  gallop,  leapt  over 
the  marble  walls,  over  the  spikes  high  up  in  the  air, 
and  down  on  to  the  ground  on  the  other  side  of  the 
bath ;  and  this  she  did  three  times,  which,  when  the 
the  Rajah  saw,  he  was  filled  with  joy,  and  sent  for 
Seventee  Bai,  and  said,  "  Tell  me  your  name,  brave 


Brave  Seventee  Bai.  61 

Prince ;  for  you  are  the  only  man  in  the  world — you 
have  won  my  daughter."  Then  the  Wuzeer's  daughter 
replied,  "  My  name  is  Seventee  Rajah.  I  come  from 
a  far  country  on  a  mission  from  my  Rajah  to  the  coun- 
try of  the  Rakshas ;  let  me  therefore,  I  pray  you,  first 
do  my  appointed  work,  and  if  I  live  to  return,  I  will 
come  through  this  country  and  claim  my  bride."  To 
which  the  Rajah  consented,  for  he  did  not  wish  the 
Princess,  his  daughter,  to  undertake  so  long  and  tire- 
some a  journey.  It  was  therefore  agreed  that  the 
Princess  should  await  Seventee  Bai's  return  at  her 
father's  court,  and  that  Seventee  Bai  herself  should 
immediately  proceed  on  her  journey. 

From  this  place  she  went  on  for  many,  many  days 
without  adventure,  and  traversed  a  dense  jungle,  for 
her  brave  heart  carried  her  through  all  difficulties.  At 
last  she  arrived  at  another  large  city,  beautifully  situ- 
ated by  a  lake,  with  blue  hills  rising  behind  it,  and 
sheltering  it  from  the  cutting  winds ;  little  gardens 
filled  with  pomegranates,  jasmine  and  other  fragrant 
and  lovely  flowers  reached  down  from  the  city  to  the 
water's  edge. 

Seventee  Bai,  tired  with  her  long  journey,  rode  up 
to  one  of  the  Malees'  houses,  where  the  hospitable 
inmates,  seeing  she  was  a  stranger  and  weary,  offered 
her  food  and  shelter  for  the  night,  which  she  thankfully 
accepted. 

As  they  all  sat  round  the  fire  cooking  their  evening 
meal,  Seventee  Bai  asked  the  Malee's  wife  about  the 
place  and  the  people,  and  what  was  going  on  in  the 
town.  "  Much  excitement,"  she  replied,  "  has  of  late 
oeen  caused  by  our  Rajah's  dream,  which  no  one  can 
interpret."  "What  did  he  dream?"  asked  Seventee 
e 


6a  Old  Deccan  Days. 

Bai.  "  Ever  since  he  was  ten  years  old,"  she  replied, 
"  he  has  dreamed  of  a  fair  tree  growing  in  a  large  gar- 
den. The  stem  of  the  tree  is  made  of  silver,  the  leaves 
are  pure  gold,  and  the  fruit  is  bunches  of  pearls.  The 
Rajah  has  inquired  of  all  his  wise  men  and  seers  where 
such  a  tree  is  to  be  found  ;  but  they  all  replied,  *  There 
is  no  such  tree  in  the  world  ;'  wherefore  he  is  dissatis- 
fied and  melancholy.  Moreover,  the  Princess,  his 
daughter,  hearing  of  her  father's  dream,  has  determined 
to  marry  no  man  save  the  finder  of  this  marvelous 
tree."  "  It  is  very  odd,"  said  Seventee  Bai ;  and,  their 
supper  being  over,  she  dragged  her  mattress  outside 
the  little  house  (as  a  man  would  have  done),  and, 
placing  it  in  a  sheltered  nook  near  the  lake,  knelt  down, 
as  her  custom  was,  to  say  her  prayers  before  going  to 
sleep. 

As  she  knelt  there,  with  her  eyes  fixed  on  the  dark 
water,  she  saw,  on  a  sudden,  a  glorious  shining  light 
coming  slowly  toward  her,  and  discovered,  in  a  minute 
or  two  more,  that  a  very  large  cobra  was  crawling  up 
the  steps  from  the  water's  edge,  having  in  his  mouth 
an  enormous  diamond,  the  size  and  shape  of  an  egg, 
that  sparkled  and  shone  like  a  little  sun,  or  as  if  one 
of  the  stars  had  suddenly  dropped  out  of  heaven.  The 
cobra  laid  the  diamond  down  at  the  top  of  the  steps, 
and  crawled  away  in  search  of  food.  Presently  return- 
ing when  the  night  was  far  spent,  he  picked  up  the 
diamond  again,  and  slid  down  the  steps  with  it  into 
the  lake.  Seventee  Bai  knew  not  what  to  make  of 
this,  but  she  resolved  to  return  to  the  same  place  next 
night  and  watch  for  the  cobra. 

Again  she  saw  him  bring  the  diamond  in  his  mouth, 
and  take  it  away  with  him  after  his  evening  meal ;  and 


Brave  S event ee  Bai.  63 

again,  a  third  night,  the  same  thing.  Then  Seventee 
Bai  determined  to  kill  the  cobra,  and  if  possible  secure 
the  diamond.  So  early  next  morning  she  went  into 
the  bazaar,  and  ordered  a  blacksmith  to  make  her  a 
very  strong  iron  trap,  which  should  catch  hold  of  any- 
thing it  was  let  down  upon  so  firmly  as  to  require  the 
strength  of  twelve  men  to  get  out  of  it.  The  black- 
smith did  as  he  was  ordered,  and  made  a  very  strong 
trap  ;  the  lower  part  of  it  was  like  knives,  and  -when  it 
caught  hold  of  anything  it  required  the  strength  of 
twelve  men  to  break  through  it  and  escape. 

Seventee  Bai  had  this  trap  hung  up  by  a  rope  to  a 
tree  close  to  the  lake,  and  all  around  she  scattered 
flowers  and  sweet  scents,  such  as  cobras  love ;  and  at 
nightfall  she  herself  got  into  the  tree  just  above  the 
trap,  and  waited  for  the  cobra  to  come  as  he  was 
wont. 

About  twelve  o'clock  the  cobra  came  up  the  steps 
from  the  lake  in  search  of  food.  He  had  the  diamond 
in  his  mouth,  and,  attracted  by  the  sweet  scents  and 
flowers,  instead  of  going  into  the  jungle,  he  proceeded 
toward  the  tree  in  which  Seventee  Bai  was. 

When  Seventee  Bai  saw  him,  she  untied  the  rope 
and  let  down  the  trap  upon  him  ;  but  for  fear  he  might 
not  be  quite  dead,  she  waited  till  morning  before  going 
to  get  the  diamond. 

As  soon  as  the  sun  was  up,  she  went  to  look  at  her 
prey.  There  he  lay  cold  and  dead,  with  the  diamond, 
which  shone  like  a  mountain  of  light,  in  his  mouth. 
Seventee  Bai  took  it,  and,  tired  by  her  night  of  watch- 
ing, thought  she  would  bathe  in  the  lake  before  return- 
ing to  the  Malee's  cottage.  So  she  ran  and  knelt  down 
oy  the  brink,  to  dip  her  hands  and  face  in  the  cool 


64  Old  Deccan  Days. 

water ;  but  no  sooner  did  she  touch  its  surface  with  the 
diamond,  than  it  rolled  back  in  a  wall  on  either  hand, 
and  she  saw  a  pathway  leading  down  below  the  lake, 
on  each  side  of  which  were  beautiful  houses  and  gar- 
dens full  of  flowers,  red,  and  white,  and  blue.  Seven- 
tee  Bai  resolved  to  see  whither  this  might  lead,  so  she 
walked  down  the  path  until  she  came  opposite  a  large 
door.  She  opened  it,  and  found  herself  in  a  more 
lovely  garden  than  she  had  ever  seen  on  earth ;  tall 
trees  laden  with  rich  fruit  grew  in  it,  and  on  the  boughs 
were  bright  birds  singing  melodiously,  while  the  ground 
was  covered  with  flowers,  among  which  flew  many 
gaudy  butterflies. 

In  the  centre  of  the  garden  grew  one  tree  more  beau- 
tiful than  all  the  rest :  the  stem  was  of  silver,  the  leaves 
ivere  golden,  and  the  fruit  was  clusters  of  pearls. 
Swinging  amid  the  branches  sat  a  young  girl,  more 
fair  than  any  earthly  lady ;  she  had  a  face  like  the 
angels  which  men  only  see  in  dreams ;  her  eyes  were 
like  two  stars,  her  golden  hair  fell  in  ripples  to  her 
feet ;  she  was  singing  to  herself.  When  she  saw  the 
stranger,  she  gave  a  little  cry,  and  said,  "Ah,  my 
lord)  why  do  you  come  here?"  Seventee  Bai  an- 
swered, "May  I  not  come  to  see  you,  beautiful  lady?" 
Then  the  lady  said,  "  Oh,  sir,  you  are  welcome ;  but 
if  my  father  sees  you  here,  he  will  kill  you.  I  am  the 
great  Cobra's  daughter,  and  he  made  this  garden  for 
me  to  play  in,  and  here  I  have  played  these  many, 
many  years  all  alone,  for  he  lets  me  see  no  one,  not 
even  of  our  own  subjects.  I  never  saw  any  one  before 
you.  Speak,  beautiful  Prince — tell  me  how  you  came 
here,  and  who  you  are?"  Seventee  Bai  answered,  "  I 
am  Seventee  Raiah  :  have  no  fear — the  stern  Cobra  i» 


Brave  Seventee  Bat.  65 

no  more.'*  Then  the  lady  was  joyful,  when  she  heard 
that  the  Cobra  who  had  tyrannized  over  her  was  dead, 
and  she  said  her  name  was  Hera  Bai  (the  Diamond 
Lady),  and  that  she  was  possessor  of  all  the  treasures 
under  the  lake ;  and  she  said  to  Seventee  Bai,  "  Stay 
with  me  here ;  you  shall  be  king  of  all  this  country, 
and  I  will  be  your  wife."  "That  cannot  be,"  an- 
swered Seventee  Bai,  "  for  I  have  been  sent  on  a  mis- 
sion by  my  Rajah,  and  I  must  continue  my  journey 
until  I  have  accomplished  it ;  but  if  you  love  me  as  I 
love  you,  come  rather  with  me  to  my  own  land,  and 
you  shall  be  my  wife."  Hera  Bai  shook  her  head. 
"  Not  so,  dearest,"  she  said,  "  for  if  I  go  with  you,  all 
the  people  will  see  how  fair  I  am,  and  they  will  kill 
you,  and  sell  me  for  a  slave  ;  and  so  I  shall  bring  evil 
upon  you,  and  not  good.  But  take  this  flute,  dear 
husband  (and  saying  this,  she  gave  Seventee  Bai  a  little 
golden  flute)  ;  whenever  you  wish  to  see  me,  or  are  in 
need  of  my  aid,  go  into  the  jungle  and  play  upon  it, 
and  before  the  sound  ceases  I  will  be  there  ;  but  do  not 
play  it  in  the  towns,  nor  yet  amid  a  crowd."  Then 
Seventee  Bai  put  the  flute  in  the  folds  of  her  dress,  and 
she  bade  farewell  to  Hera  Bai  and  went  away. 

When  she  came  back  to  the  Malee's  cottage,  the  Ma- 
lee's  wife  said  to  her,  "We  became  alarmed  about  you, 
sir ;  for  two  days  we  have  seen  nothing  of  you  ;  and  we 
thought  you  must  have  gone  away.  Where  have  you 
been  so  long?"  Seventee  Bai  answered,  "  I  had  business 
of  my  own  in  the  bazaar"  (for  she  did  not  choose  to 
tell  the  Malee's  wife  that  she  had  been  under  the  lake)  ; 
"  new  go  and  inquire  what  time  your  Rajah's  Wuzeer 
can  give  a  stranger  audience,  for  I  must  see  him  before 
I  leave  this  city."  So  the  Malee's  wife  went ;  whilst 


66  Old  Deccan  Days. 

she  was  gone,  Seventee  Bai  went  down  again  to  the 
edge  of  the  lake,  and  there  reverently  burnt  the  cobra's 
body,  both  for  the  sake  of  Hera  Bai,  and  because  the 
cobra  is  a  sacred  animal.  Next  day  (the  Malee's  wife 
having  brought  a  favorable  answer  from  the  palace) 
Seventee  Bai  went  to  see  the  Wuzeer.  Now  the 
Wuzeer  wondered  much  why  she  came  to  see  him,  and 
he  said,  "Who  are  you,  and  what  is  your  errand?" 
Whereupon  she  answered,  "  I  am  Seventee  Rajah.  I 
am  going  a  long  journey  on  my  own  Rajah's  account, 
and  happening  to  be  passing  through  this  city,  I  came 
to  pay  you  a  friendly  visit."  Then  the  Wuzeer  became 
quite  cordial,  and  talked  with  Seventee  Bai  about  the 
country  and  the  city,  and  the  Rajah  and  his  wonderful 
dream.  And  Seventee  Bai  said,  "  What  do  you  sup- 
pose your  Rajah  would  give  to  any  one  who  could 
show  him  the  tree  of  which  he  has  so  often  dreamed  ?" 
The  Wuzeer  replied,  "  He  would  certainly  give  him 
his  daughter  in  marriage  and  the  half  of  his  kingdom." 
"  Very  well,"  said  Seventee  Bai,  "  tell  your  master  that, 
upon  these  conditions,  if  he  likes  to  send  for  me,  I  will 
show  him  the  tree  ;  he  may  look  at  it  for  one  night,  but 
he  cannot  have  it  for  his  own." 

The  Wuzeer  took  the  message  to  the  Rajah,  and 
next  day  the  Wuzeer,  the  Sirdars,  and  all  the  great  men 
of  the  court,  went  in  state  by  the  Rajah's  order  to  the 
Malee's  hut,  to  say  that  he  was  willing  to  grant  all 
Seventee  Rajah's  demands,  and  would  like  to  see  the 
tree  that  very  night.  Seventee  Bai  thereupon  promised 
the  Wuzeer  that  if  the  Rajah  would  come  with  his 
court,  he  should  see  the  reality  of  his  dream.  Then 
she  went  into  the  jungle  and  played  on  her  little  flute, 
and  Hera  Bai  immediately  appeared  as  she  had  seen 


Brave  Seventee  Bat.  67 

her  before,  swinging  in  the  silver  tree ;  and  when  she 
heard  what  Seventee  Bai  wanted,  she  bade  her  bring 
the  Rajah,  who  should  see  it  without  fail. 

When  the  Rajah  came,  he  and  all  his  court  were 
overcome  with  astonishment ;  for  there,  in  the  midst  of 
the  desolate  jungle,  was  a  beautiful  palace ;  fountains 
played  in  every  court,  the  rooms  were  richly  decorated 
with  thousands  and  thousands  of  shining  jewels ;  a 
light  as  clear  as  day  filled  all  the  place,  soft  music  was 
played  around  by  unseen  hands,  sweet  odors  filled  the 
air,  and  in  the  midst  of  the  palace  garden  there  grew 
a  silver  tree,  'with  golden  leaves  and  fruit  of  pearls. 

The  next  morning  all  had  disappeared  ;  but  the  Ra- 
jah, enchanted  with  what  he  had  seen,  remained  true 
to  his  promise,  and  agreed  to  give  Seventee  Bai  the 
half  of  his  kingdom  and  his  daughter  in  marriage  ;  for, 
said  he  to  himself,  "  A  man  who  can  convert  the  jun 
gle  into  a  paradise  in  one  night  must  surely  be  rich 
enough  and  clever  enough  to  be  my  son-in-law."  But 
Seventee  Bai  said,  "  I  am  now  employed  on  an  errand 
of  my  Rajah's ;  let  me,  I  beg,  first  accomplish  it,  and 
on  my  homeward  journey  I  will  remain  a  while  in  this 
town,  and  will  marry  the  Princess."  So  they  gave  him 
leave  to  go,  and  the  Rajah  and  all  the  great  men  of  his 
kingdom  accompanied  Seventee  Bai  to  the  borders  of 
their  land.  Thence  the  Wuzeer's  daughter  went  on 
journeying  many  days  until  she  had  left  that  country 
far  behind  ;  but  as  yet  she  had  gained  no  clue  as  to  the 
way  to  the  Rakshas'  land.  In  this  difficulty  she  be- 
thought her  of  Hera  Bai,  and  played  upon  the  little 
golden  flute.  Hera  Bai  immediately  appeared,  saying, 
"  Husband,  what  can  I  do  for  you  ?"  Seventee  Bai 
answered,  "  Kind  Hera,  I  have  now  been  wandering 


68  Old  Deccan  Days. 

in  this  jungle  for  many  days,  endeavoring  in  vain  to 
discover  the  Rakshas'  country,  whither  my  Rajah  has 
ordered  me  to  go.  Can  you  help  me  to  get  there  ?" 
She  answered,  "  You  cannot  go  there  by  yourself. 
For  a  six  months'  journey  round  their  land  there  is 
placed  a  Rakshas'  guard,  and  not  a  sparrow  could  find 
his  way  into  the  country  without  their  knowledge  and 
permission.  No  men  are  admitted  there,  and  there  are 
more  Rakshas  employed  in  keeping  guard  than  there 
are  trees  on  the  face  of  the  earth.  They  are  invisible, 
but  they  would  see  you,  and  instantly  tear  you  to  pieces. 
Be,  however,  guided  by  me,  and  I  will  contrive  a  way 
by  which  you  may  gain  what  you  seek.  Take  this 
ring  (and  so  saying,  she  placed  a  glorious  ring  on  Se- 
ventee  Bai's  finger)  ;  it  was  given  me  by  my  dearest 
friend,  the  Rajah  of  the  Rakshas'  daughter,  and  wil' 
render  you  invisible.  Look  at  that  mountain,  whost 
blue  head  you  can  just  see  against  the  sky ;  you  must 
climb  to  the  top  of  that,  for  it  stands  on  the  borders  ot 
the  Rakshas'  territory.  When  there,  turn  the  stone  on 
the  ring  I  have  given  you  toward  the  palm  of  your 
hand,  and  you  will  instantly  fall  through  the  earth  into 
the  space  below  the  mountain  where  the  Rakshas' 
Rajah  holds  his  court,  and  find  yourself  in  his 
daughter's  presence.  Tell  her  you  are  my  husband ; 
she  will  love  and  help  you  for  my  sake."  Hera  Bai  so 
saying  disappeared,  and  Seventee  Bai  continued  her 
journey  until  she  reached  the  mountain  top,  where  she 
turned  the  ring  round  as  she  had  been  bidden,  and  im- 
mediately found  herself  falling  through  the  earth,  down, 
down,  down,  deeper  and  deeper,  until  at  last  she  arr'ved 
in  a  beautiful  room,  richly  furnished,  and  hung  round 
with  cloth  of  gold.  In  every  direction,  as  far  as  the  eye 


Brave  Seventee  Bai.  69 

could  reach,  were  thousands  and  thousands  of  Rakshas, 
and  in  the  centre  of  the  room  was  a  gold  and  ivory 
throne,  on  which  sat  the  most  beautiful  Princess  that 
it  is  possible  to  imagine.  She  was  tall  and  of  a  com- 
manding aspect ;  her  black  hair  was  bound  by  long 
strings  of  pearl ;  her  dress  was  of  fine  spun  gold,  and 
round  her  waist  was  clasped  a  zone  of  restless,  throb- 
bing, light-giving  diamonds ;  her  neck  and  her  arms 
were  covered  with  a  profusion  of  costly  jewels ;  but 
brighter  than  all  shone  her  bright  eyes,  which  looked 
full  of  gentle  majesty.  She  could  see  Seventee  Bai, 
although  her  attendants  could  not,  because  of  the  magic 
ring ;  and  as  soon  as  she  saw  her  she  started  and  cried, 
"Who  are  you?  How  came  you  here?"  Seventee 
Bai  answered,  "  I  am  Seventee  Rajah,  the  husband  of 
the  Lady  Hera,  and  I  have  come  here  by  the  power  of 
the  magic  ring  you  gave  her."  The  Rakshas'  Princess 
then  said,  "  You  are  welcome  :  but  you  must  know  that 
your  coming  is  attended  with  much  danger ;  for,  did 
the  guard  placed  around  me  by  my  father  know  of  your 
presence,  they  would  instantly  put  you  to  death,  and  I 
should  be  powerless  to  save  you.  Tell  me  why  did 
you  come  ?"  Seventee  Bai  answered,  "  I  came  to  see 
you,  beautiful  lady ;  tell  me  your  name,  and  how  it  is 
you  are  here  all  alone."  She  replied,  "  I  am  the  Rak- 
shas' Rajah's  only  daughter,  and  my  name  is  Tara  Bai 
(the  Star  Lady),  and  because  my  father  loves  me  very 
much  he  has  built  this  palace  for  me,  and  placed  this 
great  guard  of  Rakshas  all  round  for  many  thousand 
miles,  to  prevent  any  one  coming  in  or  out  without  his 
permission. 

"  So  great  is  the  state  they  keep  that  I  seldom  see 
my  father  and  mother ;  indeed,  I  have  not  seen  them 


70  Old  Deccan  Days. 

for  several  years.  Nevertheless,  I  will  go  now  in  per- 
son to  implore  their  protection  for  you ;  for  though  I 
never  saw  king  nor  prince  before,  I  love  you  very 
much." 

So  saying,  she  arose  to  go  to  her  father's  court,  bid- 
ding Seventee  Bai  await  her  return. 

When  the  Rajah  and  Ranee  of  the  Rakshas  heard 
that  their  daughter  was  coming  to  see  them,  they  were 
very  much  surprised,  and  said,  "  What  can  be  the  mat" 
ter  with  our  daughter  ?  Can  she  be  ill  ?  or  can  our 
Tara  Bai  be  unhappy  in  the  beautiful  house  we  have 
given  her?"  And  they  said  to  her,  "  Daughter,  why  do 
you  come?  what  is  the  matter?"  She  answered,  "  Oh, 
my  father !  I  come  to  tell  you  I  should  like  to  be  mar- 
ried. Cannot  you  find  some  beautiful  Prince  to  be  my 
husband?"  Then  the  Rajah  laughed,  and  said,  "  You 
are  but  a  child  still,  my  daughter ;  nevertheless,  if  you 
wish  for  a  husband,  certainly,  if  any  Prince  comes 
here,  and  asks  you  in  marriage,  we  will  let  you  wed 
him."  She  said,  "If  some  brave  and  beautiful  Prince 
were  to  come  here,  and  get  through  the  great  guard 
you  have  placed  around  the  palace,  would  you  indeed 
protect  him  for  my  sake,  and  not  allow  them  to  tear 
him  in  pieces?"  The  Rajah  answered,  "If  such  a 
one  come,  he  shall  be  safe."  Then  Tara  Bai  was  very 
joyful,  and  ran  and  fetched  Seventee  Bai,  and  said  to 
her  father  and  mother,  "  See  here  is  Seventee  Rajah, 
the  young  Prince  of  whom  I  spoke."  And  when  the 
Rajah  and  Ranee  saw  Seventee  Bai  they  were  greatly 
astonished,  and  could  not  think  how  she  had  managed 
to  reach  their  land,  and  they  thought  she  must  be  very 
brave  and  wise  to  have  done  so.  And  because  also 
Seventee  Bai  looked  a  very  noble  Prince,  they  were 


Brave  Seventee  Bat.  71 

the  more  willing  that  she  should  marry  Tara  Bai,  and 
said,  "  Seventee  Rajah,  we  are  willing  you  should  be 
our  son-in-law,  for  you  look  good  and  true,  and  you 
must  be  brave,  to  have  come  so  long  and  dangerous  a 
journey  for  your  wife ;  now,  therefore,  you  shall  be 
married  ;  the  whole  land  is  open  to  you,  and  all  that  we 
have  is  yours  ;  only  take  good  care  of  our  dear  daughter, 
and  if  ever  she  or  you  are  unhappy,  return  here  and 
you  shall  find  a  home  with  us."  So  the  wedding  took 
place  amidst  great  rejoicings.  The  wedding  festivities 
lasted  twelve  days,  and  to  it  came  hundreds  and  hun- 
dreds of  thousands  of  Rakshas  from  every  country 
under  heaven ;  from  the  north  and  the  south  and  the 
east  and  the  west,  from  the  depths  of  the  earth  and  the 
uttermost  parts  of  the  sea.  Troop  after  troop  they  came 
flocking  in,  an  ever-increasing  crowd,  from  all  parts  of 
this  wide  world,  to  be  present  at  the  marriage  of  their 
master's  daughter. 

It  would  be  impossible  to  count  all  the  rich  and 
costly  presents  that  the  Rakshas'  Rajah  and  Ranee 
gave  Tara  Bai.  There  were  jewels  enough  to  fill  the 
seas ;  diamonds  and  emeralds,  rubies,  sapphires  and 
pearls ;  gold  and  silver,  costly  hangings,  carved  ebony 
and  ivory,  more  than  a  man  could  count  in  a  hundred 
years ;  for  the  Rajah  gave  his  daughter  a  guard  of 
ICXD,OOO,OOO,OOO,OOO  Rakshas,  and  each  Rakshas  car- 
ried a  bundle  of  riches,  and  each  bundle  was  as  big  as 
a  house  !  and  so  they  took  leave  of  the  Rakshas'  Rajah 
and  Ranee,  and  left  the  Rakshas'  country. 

When  they  got  to  the  country  of  the  Rajah  who  had 
dreamed  about  the  silver  tree,  with  leaves  of  gold  and 
fruit  of  pearl  (because  the  number  of  their  retinue  was 
so  great  that  if  they  had  come  into  a  country  they 


fa  Old  Deccan  Days. 

would  have  devoured  all  that  was  in  it  like  a  swarm  of 
locusts),  Seventee  Bai  and  Tara  Bai  determined  that 
Tara  Bai  should  stay  with  the  guard  of  Rakshas  in  the 
jungle,  on  the  borders  of  the  Rajah's  dominions,  and 
that  Seventee  Bai  should  go  to  the  city,  as  she  had  prom- 
ised, to  marry  the  Rajah's  daughter.  And  there  they 
stayed  a  week,  and  the  Rajah's  daughter  was  married 
with  great  pomp  and  ceremony  to  Seventee  Bai ;  and 
when  they  left  the  city  the  Rajah  gave  Seventee  Bai 
and  the  bride,  his  daughter,  horses  and  camels  and  ele- 
phants, and  rich  robes  and  jewels  innumerable  ;  and  he 
and  all  his  court  accompanied  them  to  the  borders  of 
the  land. 

Thence  they  went  to  the  country  where  lived  the 
Princess  whose  great  marble  bath  Seventee  Bai  had 
jumped  over ;  and  there  Seventee  Bai  was  married  to 
her,  amid  great  rejoicings,  and  the  wedding  was  one  of 
surpassing  splendor,  and  the  wedding  festivities  lasted 
for  three  whole  days. 

And  leaving  that  city,  they  traveled  on  until  they 
reached  the  city  where  Seventee  Bai  had  tamed  the 
Rajah's  wild  pony,  and  there  they  spent  two  days  in 
great  honor  and  splendor,  and  Seventee  Bai  married 
that  Princess  also ;  so  with  her  five  wives — that  is  to 
say,  Hera  Bai  the  Rajah  of  the  Cobras'  daughter,  Tara 
Bai  the  Rajah  of  the  Rakshas'  daughter,  and  the  three 
other  Princesses — and  a  great  tribe  of  attendants  and 
elephants  and  camels  and  horses,  she  returned  to  the 
city  where  she  had  left  Parbuttee  Bai. 

Now  when  news  was  brought  to  Seventee  Bai's  mas- 
ter (the  friendly  Rajah),  of  the  great  cavalcade  that 
was  approaching  his  city,  he  became  very  much  alarm- 
ed, taking  Seventee  Bai  for  some  strange  Rajah  who 


Brave  Seventee  Bat,  73 

had  come  to  make  war  upon  him.  When  Seventee 
Bai  heard  how  alarmed  he  was,  she  sent  a  messenger 
to  him,  on  a  swift  horse,  to  say,  "  Be  not  alarmed  ;  it  is 
only  thy  servant,  Seventee  Rajah,  returning  from  the 
errand  on  which  thou  didst  send  him."  Then  the 
Rajah's  heart  was  light,  and  he  ordered  a  royal  salute 
to  be  fired,  and  went  out  with  all  his  court  to  meet 
Seventee  Bai,  and  they  all  went  together  in  a  state 
procession  into  the  city.  And  Seventee  Bai  said  to 
the  Rajah,  "You  sent  your  servant  to  the  Rakshas' 
country  to  fetch  a  golden  saree  for  the  Ranee.  Behold, 
I  have  done  as  you  wish."  And  so  saying,  she  gave  to 
the  Rajah  five  Rakshas'  bundles  of  rich  hangings  and 
garments  covered  with  jewels  (that  is  to  say,  five 
housefuls  of  costly  things  ;  for  each  Rakshas  carried  as 
much  in  the  bundle  on  his  shoulders  as  a  house  would 
hold)  ;  and  to  the  Wuzeer  she  gave  two  bundles. 

After  this,  Seventee  Bai  discharged  almost  all  her 
immense  train  of  attendants  (for  fear  they  should 
create  a  famine  in  the  land),  sending  them  to  their  own 
houses  with  many  valuable  presents  ;  and  she  took  the 
three  Princesses,  her  wives,  to  live  with  her  and  Par- 
buttee  Bai ;  but  Hera  Bai  and  Tara  Bai,  on  account 
of  their  high  rank  and  their  surpassing  beauty,  had  a 
splendid  palace  of  their  own  in  the  jungle,  of  which  no 
one  knew  but  Seventee  Bai. 

Now  when  she  again  saw  Seventee  Bai,  the  Rajah's 
little  daughter  said  to  her  father,  "  Father,  I  do  not 
think  there  is  such  a  brave  and  beautiful  Prince  in  all 
the  world  as  this  Seventee  Rajah.  I  would  rather  have 
him  for  my  husband  than  any  one  else."  And  the 
Rajah  said,  "  Daughter,  I  am  very  willing  you  should 
many  him."  So  it  was  settled  Seventee  Bai  should 
1  D 


74  Old  Deccan  Days. 

marry  the  little  Princess ;  but  she  said  to  the  Rajah, 
"  1  am  willing  to  marry  your  daughter,  but  we  must 
have  a  very  grand  wedding ;  give  me  time,  therefore, 
to  send  into  all  the  countries  round,  and  invite  all  their 
Rajahs  to  be  present  at  the  ceremony."  And  to  this 
the  Rajah  agreed. 

Now,  about  this  time,  Seventee  Bai  one  day  found 
Parbuttee  Bai  crying,  and  said  to  her,  "  Little  sister, 
why  are  you  unhappy?"  And  Parbuttee  Bai  an- 
swered, "  Oh  sister,  you  have  brought  us  out  of  all  our 
difficulties,  and  won  us  honor  and  great  riches,  but  yet 
I  do  not  feel  merry ;  for  I  cannot  help  thinking  of  our 
poor  husband,  who  is  now,  maybe,  wandering  about  a 
wretched  beggar,  and  I  long  with  my  whole  heart  to 
see  him  again."  Then  Seventee  Bai  said,  "Well, 
cheer  up,  do  not  cry ;  mind  those  women  do  not  find 
out  I  am  not  Seventee  Rajah.  Keep  a  good  heart,  and 
I  will  try  and  find  your  husband  for  you."  So  Seven- 
tee  Bai  went  into  the  jungle  palace  to  see  Hera  Bai, 
and  said  to  her,  "  I  have  a  friend  whom  I  have  not 
seen  since  he  became  mad  twelve  years  ago,  and  ran 
away  into  the  jungle  disguised  as  a  Fakeer.  I  should 
like  very  much  to  find  out  if  he  is  still  alive.  How  can 
I  learn  ?"  Now  Hera  Bai  was  a  very  wise  Princess, 
and  she  answered,  "  Your  best  plan  will  be  to  provide 
a  great  feast  for  the  poor,  and  cause  it  to  be  proclaimed 
in  all  lands,  far  and  near,  that  you  are  about  to  give  it 
as  a  thank-offering  for  all  the  blessings  God  has  be- 
stowed on  you.  The  poor  will  flock  from  all  countries 
to  come  to  it,  and  perhaps  among  the  rest  you  may 
find  your  friend." 

Seventee  Bai  did  as  Hera  Bai  had  advised,  causing 
two  long  tables  to  be  spread  in  the  jungle,  whereat 


Brave  Seventee  Bai.  75 

hundreds  of  poor  from  all  parts  of  the  world  were  daily 
entertained ;  and  every  day,  for  six  months,  Seventee 
Bai  and  Parbuttee  Bai  walked  down  the  long  rows  of 
people,  apparently  to  see  how  they  were  all  getting  on. 
but  in  reality  to  look  for  Logedas  Rajah  ;  but  they 
found  him  not. 

At  last  one  day,  as  Seventee  Bai  was  going  her  ac- 
customed round,  she  saw  a  wretched  wild-looking  man, 
black  as  pitch,  with  tangled  hair,  a  thin  wrinkled  face, 
and  in  his  hand  a  wooden  bowl,  such  as  Fakeers  carry 
about  to  collect  broken  meat  and  scraps  of  bread  in, 
and  touching  Parbuttee  Bai,  she  said  to  her,  "  See, 
Parbuttee,  there  is  your  husband."  When  Parbuttee 
Bai  saw  this  pitiful  sight  (for  it  was,  indeed,  Logedas, 
but  so  changed  and  altered  that  even  his  wives  hardly 
recognized  him),  she  began  to  cry.  Then  Seventee 
Bai  said,  "  Do  not  cry  ;  go  home  quickly.  I  will  take 
care  of  him."  And  when  Parbuttee  Bai  was  gone,  she 
called  one  of  the  guard  and  said  to  him,  "  Catch  hold 
of  that  man  and  put  him  in  prison."  Then  Logedas 
Rajah  said,  "  Why  do  you  seize  me  ?  I  have  done  no 
harm  to  any  one."  But  Seventee  Bai  ordered  the 
guard  not  to  heed  his  remonstrances,  but  to  take  him 
to  prison  instantly,  for  she  did  not  wish  the  people 
around  to  discover  how  interested  she  was  in  him.  So 
the  guard  took  Logedas  Rajah  away  to  lock  him  up. 
Poor  Logedas  Rajah  said  to  them,  "Why  has  this 
wicked  Rajah  had  me  taken  prisoner  ?  I  have  harmed 
no  one.  I  have  not  fought,  nor  robbed  ;  but  for  twelve 
years  I  have  been  a  wretched  beggar,  living  on  the 
bread  of  charity."  For  he  did  not  tell  them  he  was  a 
Rajah's  son,  for  he  knew  they  would  only  laugh  at 
him.  They  replied,  ';  You  must  not  call  our  Rajah 


76  Old  Dcccan  Days. 

wicked ;  it  is  you  that  are  wicked,  and  not  he,  and 
doubtless  he  will  have  your  head  cut  off." 

When  they  put  him  in  prison  he  begged  them  again 
to  say  what  was  to  be  done  to  him.  "  Oh  !"  said  they, 
"  you  will  certainly  be  hanged  to-morrow  morning,  or 
perhaps,  if  you  like  it  better,  beheaded,  in  front  of  the 
palace." 

Now  as  soon  as  Seventee  Bai  got  home,  she  sent  for 
her  head  servants,  and  said  to  them,  "  Go  at  once  to 
the  prison,  and  order  the  guard  to  give  you  up  the 
Fakeer  I  gave  into  their  charge,  and  bring  him  here  in 
a  palanquin,  but  see  that  he  does  not  escape."  Then 
Seventee  Bai  ordered  them  to  lock  up  Logedas  in  a 
distant  part  of  the  palace,  and  commanded  that  he 
should  be  washed,  and  dressed  in  new  clothes,  and 
given  food,  and  that  a  barber  should  be  sent  for,  to  cut 
his  hair  and  trim  his  beard.  Then  Logedas  said  to  his 
keepers,  "  See  how  good  the  Rajah  is  to  me  !  He  will 
not  surely  hang  me  after  this."  "  Oh,  never  fear," 
they  answered ;  "  when  you  are  dressed  up  and  made 
very  smart,  it  will  be  a  much  finer  sight  to  see  you 
hanged  than  before."  Thus  they  tried  to  frighten  the 
poor  man.  After  this  Seventee  Bai  sent  for  all  the 
greatest  doctors  in  the  kingdom,  and  said  to  them,  "  If 
a  Rajah  wanders  about  for  twelve  years  in  the  jungle, 
until  all  trace  of  his  princely  beauty  is  lost,  how  long 
will  it  take  you  to  restore  him  to  his  original  likeness  ?" 
They  answered,  "  With  care  and  attention  it  may  be 
done  in  six  months."  "  Very  well,"  said  Seventee  Bai, 
"  there  is  a  friend  of  mine  now  in  my  palice  of  whom 
this  is  the  case.  Take  him  and  treat  him  well,  and  at 
the  end  of  six  months  I  shall  expect  to  s^e  hira  »e- 
stored  to  his  original  health  and  strength." 


JSra-oe  Seventee  Sat.  77 

So  Logedas  was  placed  under  the  doctors'  care  ;  but 
all  this  time  he  had  no  idea  who  Seventee  Bai  was,  nor 
why  he  was  thus  treated.  Every  day  Seventee  Bai 
came  to  see  him  and  talk  to  him.  Then  he  said  to  his 
keepers,  "  See,  good  people,  how  kind  this  great  Rajah 
is,  coming  to  see  me  every  day ;  he  can  intend  for  me 
nothing  but  good."  To  which  they  would  answer, 
"  Don't  you  be  in  a  hurry ;  none  can  fathom  the  hearts 
of  kings.  Most  probably,  for  all  this  delay,  he  will  in 
the  end  have  you  taken  and  hanged."  Thus  they 
amused  themselves  by  alarming  him. 

Then,  some  day,  when  Seventee  Bai  had  been  more 
than  usually  kind,  Logedas  Rajah  would  say  again,  "  I 
do  not  fear  the  Rajah's  intentions  toward  me.  Did 
you  not  notice  how  very  kind  he  was  to  day !"  And  to 
this  his  keepers  would  reply — 

"  Doubtless  it  is  amusing  for  him,  but  hardly,  we 
should  think,  for  you.  He  will  play  with  you  proba- 
bly for  some  time  (as  a  cat  does  with  a  mouse)  ;  but  in 
three  months  is  the  Rajah's  birthday ;  most  likely  he  is 
keeping  you  to  kill  you  then."  And  so  the  time  wore 
on. 

Seventee  Bai's  birthday  was  fixed  for  the  day  also  of 
her  wedding  with  the  Rajah's  daughter.  For  this  great 
event  immense  preparations  were  made  all  over  the 
plain  outside  the  city  walls.  Tents  made  of  cloth  of 
gold  were  pitched  in  a  great  square,  twelve  miles  long 
and  twelve  miles  broad,  for  the  accommodation  of  the 
neighboring  Rajahs,  and  in  the  centre  was  a  larger 
tent  than  all  the  rest,  covered  with  jewels  and  shining 
like  a  great  golden  temple,  in  which  they  were  to  as- 
semble. 

Then  Seventee  Bai  said  to  Parbuttee  Bai,  "  On  my 


78  Old  Deccan  Days. 

birthday  I  will  restore  you  to  your  husband."  But  Par 
buttee  Bai  was  vexed  and  said,  "  I  cannot  bear  the 
thought  of  him  ;  it  is  such  a  terrible  thing  to  think  of 
our  once  handsome  husband  as  none  other  than  that 
miserable  Fakeer." 

Seventee  Bai  smiled.  "  In  truth,"  she  said,  "  I  think 
you  will  find  him  again  altered,  and  for  the  better. 
You  cannot  think  what  a  change  rest  and  care  have 
made  in  him  ;  but  he  does  not  know  who  we  are,  and 
as  you  value  my  happiness,  tell  no  one  now  that  I  am 
not  the  Rajah."  "  Indeed  I  will  not,  dearest  sister," 
answered  Parbuttee  Bai.  "  I  should  in  truth  be  loath 
to  vex  you,  after  all  you  have  done  for  me  ;  for  owing 
to  you  here  have  we  lived  happily  for  twelve  years  like 
sisters,  and  I  do  not  think  as  clever  a  woman  as  you 
was  ever  before  born  in  this  world." 

Among  other  guests  invited  to  the  wedding  were  Siu 
Rajah  and  his  wife,  and  the  Wuzeer,  Seventee  Bai's 
father,  and  her  mother.  Seventee  Bai  arranged  thrones 
for  them  all,  made  of  gold  and  emeralds,  and  dia- 
monds, and  rubies,  and  ivory.  And  she  ordered  that 
in  the  seat  of  honor  on  her  left-hand  side  should  be 
placed  the  Wuzeer,  her  father,  and  next  to  him  her 
mother,  and  next  to  them  Siu  Rajah  and  his  wife, 
and  after  them  all  the  other  Rajahs  and  Ranees,  accord- 
ing to  their  rank  ;  and  all  the  Rajahs  and  Ranees  won- 
dered much  that  the  place  of  honor  should  have  been 
given  to  the  stranger  Wuzeer.  Then  Seventee  Bai 
took  her  most  costly  Rajah  dress,  and  ordered  that  Lo- 
gedas  Rajah  should  be  clothed  in  it,  and  escorted  to  the 
tent ;  and  she  took  off  the  man's  clothes  which  she  had 
worn,  and  dressed  herself  in  a  saree.  When  she  was 
dressed  in  it  she  looked  a  more  lovely  woman  than  she 


Brave  Seventee  Bai.  79 

had  before  looked  a  handsome  man.  And  she  went  to 
the  tent  leading  Parbuttee  Bai,  while  with  her  came 
Hera  Bai  and  Tara  Bai  of  more  than  mortal  beauty, 
and  the  three  other  Princesses  clothed  in  the  most  costly 
robes.  Then  before  all  the  Rajahs  and  Ranees,  Seven- 
tee  Bai  knelt  down  at  Logedas  Rajah's  feet,  and  said  to 
him,  "  I  am  your  true  wife.  O  husband,  have  you  for- 
gotten her  whom  you  left  in  the  jungle  with  Parbuttee 
Bai  twelve  years  ago  ?  See  here  she  also  is  ;  and  be- 
hold these  rich  jewels,  these  tents  of  gold,  these  hang- 
ings of  priceless  worth,  these  elephants,  camels,  horses, 
attendants  and  all  this  wealth.  It  is  all  yours,  as  I  am 
yours  ;  for  I  have  collected  all  for  you." 

Then  Logedas  Rajah  wept  for  joy,  and  Siu  Rajah 
arose  and  kissed  Seventee  Bai,  and  said  to  her,  "  My 
noble  daughter,  you  have  rescued  my  son  from  misery, 
and  done  more  wisely  and  well  than  woman  ever  did 
before.  May  all  honor  and  blessing  attend  you  hence- 
forth and  for  ever." 

And  the  assembled  Rajahs  and  Ranees  were  sur- 
prised beyond  measure,  saying,  "  Did  any  one  ever 
hear  of  a  woman  doing  so  much  ?"  But  more  than  any 
was  the  good  Rajah  astonished,  whom  Seventee  Bai  had 
served  so  well  for  twelve  years,  and  whose  daughter 
she  was  to  have  married  that  day,  when  he  learnt  that 
she  was  a  woman !  It  was  then  agreed  by  all  that 
Logedas  Rajah  should  on  that  day  be  newly  married  to 
his  two  wives,  Parbuttee  Bai  and  Seventee  Bai ;  and 
should  also  marry  the  six  other  beautiful  Princesses — 
the  Princess  Hera  Bai,  the  Princess  Tara  Bai,  the  Ra- 
jah's little  daughter,  and  the  three  other  Princesses ;  and 
that  he  should  return  with  his  father  to  his  own  king- 
dom. And  the  weddings  took  place  amid  great  sple'; 


So  Old  Deccan  Days. 

dor  and  rejoicings  unheard  of ;  and  of  all  the  fine  things 
that  were  seen  and  done  on  that  day  it  is  impossible  to 
tell.  And  afterward  Logedas  Rajah  and  his  eight 
wives,  and  his  father  and  mother,  and  the  Wuzeer  and 
his  wife,  and  all  their  attendants,  returned  to  their  own 
land,  where  they  all  lived  very  happily  ever  after. 
And  so  may  all  who  read  this  story  live  happily  too. 


IV. 
TRUTH'S    TRIUMPH. 

SEVERAL  hundred  years  ago  there  was  a  certain 
Rajah  who  had  twelve  wives,  but  no  children, 
and  though  he  caused  many  prayers  to  be  said,  and 
presents  made  in  temples  far  and  near,  never  a  son  nor 
a  daughter  had  he.  Now  this  Rajah  had  a  Wuzeer 
who  was  a  very,  very  wise  old  man,  and  it  came  to 
pass  that  one  day,  when  he  was  traveling  in  a  distant 
part  of  his  kingdom,  accompanied  by  this  Wuzeer  and 
the  rest  of  his  court,  he  came  upon  a  large  garden,  in 
walking  round  which  he  was  particularly  struck  by  a 
little  tree  which  grew  there.  It  was  a  bringal  *  tree, 
not  above  two  feet  in  height.  It  had  no  leaves,  but  on 
it  grew  a  hundred  and  one  bringals.  The  Rajah 
stopped  to  count  them,  and  then  turning  to  the  Wuzeer 
in  great  astonishment,  said,  "  It  is  to  me  a  most  unac- 
countable thing,  that  this  little  tree  should  have  no 
leaves,  but  a  hundred  and  one  bringals  growing  on  it. 
You  are  a  wise  man — can  you  guess  what  this  means?" 
The  Wuzeer  replied,  "  I  can  interpret  this  marvel  to 
you,  but  if  I  do,  you  will  most  likely  not  believe  me 
promise  therefore  that  if  I  tell  you,  you  will  not  cause 
me  to  be  killed  as  having  told  (as  you  imagine)  a  lie." 

*  Solanum  molengena — the  egg-shaped  fruit  of  which  is  » 
favorite  vegetable  all  over  India. 

J>*  81 


8a  Old  Deccan  Days. 

The  Rajah  promised,  and  the  Wuzeer  continued: 
"  The  meaning  of  this  little  bringal  tree,  with  the  hun- 
dred and  one  bringals  growing  on  it,  is  this.  Whoever 
marries  the  daughter  of  the  Malee  in  charge  of  this 
garden  will  have  a  hundred  and  one  chidren — a  hun- 
dred sons  and  one  daughter."  The  Rajah  said, 
"Where is  the  maiden  to  be  seen?"  The  Wuzeer  an- 
swered, "  When  a  number  of  great  people  like  you 
and  all  your  court  come  into  a  little  village  like  this, 
the  poor  people,  and  especially  the  children,  are  fright- 
ened and  run  away  and  hide  themselves  ;  therefore,  as 
long  as  you  stay  here  as  Rajah  you  cannot  hope  to  see 
her.  Your  only  means  will  be  to  send  away  your 
suite,  and  cause  it  be  announced  that  you  have  left  the 
place.  Then,  if  you  walk  daily  in  this  garden,  you 
may  some  morning  meet  the  pretty  Guzra  Bai,*  of 
whom  I  speak." 

Upon  this  advice  the  Rajah  acted ;  and  one  day 
whilst  walking  in  the  garden  he  saw  the  Malee's  young 
daughter,  a  girl  of  twelve  years  old,  busy  gathering 
flowers.  He  went  forward  to  accost  her,  but  she,  see- 
ing that  he  was  not  one  of  the  villagers,  but  a  stranger, 
was  shy,  and  ran  home  to  her  father's  house. 

The  Rajah  followed,  for  he  was  very  much  struck 
with  her  grace  and  beauty ;  in  fact,  he  fell  in  love  with 
her  as  soon  as  he  saw  her,  and  thought  he  had  never 
seen  a  king's  daughter  half  so  charming. 

When  he  got  to  the  Malee's  house  the  door  was  shut ; 
so  he  called  out,  "  Let  me  in,  good  Malee ;  I  am  the 
Rajah,  and  I  wish  to  marry  your  daughter."  The 
Malee  only  laughed,  and  answered,  "  A  pretty  tale  to 
tell  a  simple  man,  indeed !  You  a  Rajah !  why  the 
*  Flower  Girl. 


Truth's  Triumph.  83 

Rajah  is  miles  away.  You  had  better  go  home,  my 
good  fellow,  for  there's  no  welcome  for  you  here !' 
But  the  Rajah  continued  calling  till  the  Malee  opened 
the  door  ;  who  then  was  indeed  surprised,  seeing  it  was 
truly  no  other  than  the  Rajah,  and  he  asked  what  he 
could  do  for  him. 

The  Rajah  said,  "  I  wish  to  marry  your  beautiful 
daughter,  Guzra  Bai."  "  No,  no,"  said  the  Malee, 
"  this  joke  wont  do.  None  of  your  Princes  in  disguise 
for  me.  You  may  think  you  are  a  great  Rajah  and  I 
only  a  poor  Malee,  but  I  tell  you  that  makes  no  differ- 
ence at  all  to  me.  Though  you  were  king  of  all  the 
earth,  I  would  not  permit  you  to  come  here  and  amuse 
yourself  chattering  to  my  girl,  only  to  fill  her  head  with 
nonsense,  and  to  break  her  heart." 

"  In  truth,  good  man,  you  do  me  wrong,"  answered 
the  Rajah,  humbly :  "  I  mean  what  I  say ;  I  wish  to 
marry  your  daughter." 

"  Do  not  think,"  retorted  the  Malee,  "that  I'll  make 
a  fool  of  myself  because  I'm  only  a  Malee,  and  believe 
what  you've  got  to  say,  because  you're  a  great  Rajah 
Rajah  or  no  Rajah  is  all  one  to  me.  If  you  mean 
what  you  say,  if  you  care  for  my  daughter  and  wish  to 
be  married  to  her,  come  and  be  married ;  but  I'll  have 
none  of  your  new-fangled  forms  and  court  ceremonies 
hard  to  be  understood  ;  let  the  girl  be  married  by  her 
father's  hearth  and  under  her  father's  roof,  and  let  us 
invite  to  the  wedding  our  old  friends  and  acquaintance 
whom  we've  known  all  our  lives,  and  before  we  ever 
thought  of  you." 

The  Rajah  was  not  angry,  but  amused,  and  rather 
pleased  than  otherwise  at  the  old  man's  frankness,  and 
he  consented  to  all  that  was  desired. 


84  Old  Deccan  Days. 

The  village  beauty,  Guzra  Bai,  was  therefore  mar- 
ried with  as  much  pomp  as  they  could  muster,  but  in 
village  fashion,  to  the  great  Rajah,  who  took  her  home 
with  him,  followed  by  the  tears  and  blessings  of  her 
parents  and  playmates. 

The  twelve  kings'  daughters  were  by  no  means 
pleased  at  this  addition  to  the  number  of  the  Ranees ; 
and  they  agreed  amongst  themselves  that  it  would  be 
highly  derogatory  to  their  dignity  to  permit  Guzra  Bai 
to  associate  with  them,  and  that  the  Rajah,  their  hus- 
band, had  offered  them  an  unpardonable  insult  in 
marrying  a  Malee's  daughter,  which  was  to  be  re- 
venged upon  her  the  very  first  opportunity. 

Having  made  this  league,  they  tormented  poor 
Guzra  Bai  so  much  that  to  save  her  from  their  perse- 
cutions, the  Rajah  built  her  a  little  house  of  her 
own,  where  she  lived  very,  very  happily  for  a  short 
time. 

At  last  one  day  he  had  occasion  to  go  and  visit  a 
distant  part  of  his  dominions,  but  fearing  his  high-born 
wives  might  ill-use  Guzra  Bai  in  his  absence,  at  part- 
ing he  gave  her  a  little  golden  bell,*  saying,  "  If  while 
I  am  away  you  are  in  any  trouble,  or  any  one  should 
be  unkind  to  you,  ring  this  little  bell,  and  wherever  I 
am  I  shall  instantly  hear  it,  and  will  return  to  your 
aid." 

No  sooner  had  the  Rajah  gone,  than  Guzra  Bai 
thought  she  would  try  the  power  of  the  bell.  So  she 
rang  it.  The  Rajah  instantly  appeared.  "What  do 
you  want?"  he  said.  "  Oh,  nothing,"  she  replied.  "  I 
was  foolish.  I  could  hardly  believe  what  you  told  me 

*  "  It  must  have  been  a  kind  of  telegraph  to  go  so  quick.' 
107  Narrator  said. 


Truth's  Triumph.  85 

could  be  true,  and  thought  I  would  try."  "  Now  you 
will  believe,  I  hope,"  he  said,  and  went  away.  A 
second  time  she  rang  the  bell.  Again  the  Rajah  re- 
turned. "Oh,  pardon  me,  husband,"  she  said;  "it 
was  wrong  of  me  not  to  trust  you,  but  I  hardly  thought 
you  could  return  again  from  so  far."  "  Never  mind," 
he  said,  "only  do  not  try  the  experiment  again."  And 
again  he  went  away.  A  third  time  she  rang  the  golden 
Dell.  "Why  do  you  ring  again,  Guzra  Bai?"  asked 
the  Rajah  sternly,  as  for  a  third  time  he  returned.  "  I 
don't  know,  indeed ;  indeed  I  beg  your  pardon,"  she 
said ;  "  but  I  know  not  why,  I  felt  so  frightened." 
"Have  any  of  the  Ranees  been  unkind  to  you?"  he 
asked.  "  No,  none,"  she  answered  ;  "  in  fact,  I  have 
seen  none  of  them."  "You  are  a  silly  child,"  said  he, 
stroking  her  hair.  "  Affairs  of  the  state  call  me  away. 
You  must  try  and  keep  a  good  heart  till  my  return ;" 
and  for  the  fourth  time  he  disappeared. 

A  little  while  after  this,  wonderful  to  relate,  Guzra 
Bai  had  a  hundred  and  one  children  ! — a  hundred  boys 
and  one  girl.  When  the  Ranees  heard  this,  they  said 
to  each  other,  "  Guzra  Bai,  the  Malee's  daughter,  wiL 
rank  higher  than  us  ;  she  will  have  great  power  and  in- 
fluence as  mother  to  the  heir  to  the  Raj  ;*  let  us  kill 
these  children,  and  tell  our  husband  that  she  is  a  sor- 
ceress ;  then  will  he  love  her  no  longer,  and  his  old 
affection  for  us  will  return."  So  these  twelve  wicked 
Ranees  all  went  over  to  Guzra  Bai's  house.  When 
Guzra  Bai  saw  them  coming,  she  feared  they  meant  to 
do  her  some  harm,  so  she  seized  her  little  golden  bell, 
and  rang,  and  rang,  and  rang — but  no  Rajah  came. 
She  had  called  him  back  so  often  that  he  did  not  be 
*  Kingdom. 


86  Old  Deccan  Days. 

lieve  she  really  needed  his  help.  And  thus  the  poor 
woman  was  left  to  the  mercy  of  her  implacable  ene- 
mies. 

Now  the  nurse  who  had  charge  of  the  hundred  and 
one  babies  was  an  old  servant  of  the  twelve  Ranees, 
and  moreover  a  very  wicked  woman,  able  and  willing 
to  do  whatever  her  twelve  wicked  old  mistresses  or- 
dered. So  when  they  said  to  her,  "  Can  you  kill  these 
children  ?"  she  answered,  "  Nothing  is  easier ;  I  will 
throw  them  out  upon  the  dust-heap  behind  the  palace, 
Arhere  the  rats  and  hawks  and  vultures  will  have  left 
non«  of  them  remaining  by  to-morrow  morning.  "  So 
be  it,"  said  the  Ranees.  Then  the  nurse  took  the  hun- 
dred and  one  little  innocent  children — the  hundred  little 
boys  and  the  one  little  girl — and  threw  them  behind 
3he  palace  on  the  dust-heap,  close  to  some  large  rat- 
holes  ;  and  after  that,  she  and  the  twelve  Ranees  placed 
*  very  large  stone  in  each  of  the  babies'  cradles,  and 
said  to  Guzra  Bai,  "  Oh,  you  evil  witch  in  disguise,  do 
aot  hope  any  longer  to  impose  by  your  arts  on  the  Ra- 
jah's credulity.  See,  your  children  have  all  turned  into 
stones.  See  these,  your  pretty  babies  !" — and  with  that 
they  tumbled  the  hundred  and  one  stones  down  in  a 
great  heap  on  the  floor.  Then  Guzra  Bai  began  to 
cry,  for  she  knew  it  was  not  true  ;  but  what  could  one 
poor  woman  do  against  thirteen  ?  At  the  Rajah's  re- 
turn the  twelve  Ranees  accused  Guzra  Bai  of  being  a 
witch,  and  the  nurse  testified  that  the  hundred  and  one 
children  she  had  charge  of  had  turned  into  stones,  and 
the  Rajah  believed  them  rather  than  Guzra  Bai,  and 
he  ordered  her  to  be  imprisoned  for  life. 

Meanwhile  a  Bandicote*  had  heard  the  pitiful  cries 
*  A  species  of  large  rat. 


Truth's  Triumph.  87 

of  the  children,  and  taking  pity  on  them,  dragged  them 
all,  one  by  one,  into  her  hole,  out  of  the  way  of  kites 
and  vultures.  She  then  assembled  all  the  Bandicotes 
from  far  and  near,  and  told  them  what  she  had  done, 
begging  them  to  assist  in  finding  food  for  the  children. 
Then  every  day  a  hundred  and  one  Bandicotes  would 
come,  each  bringing  a  little  bit  of  food  in  his  mouth, 
and  give  it  to  one  of  the  children ;  and  so  day  by  day 
they  grew  stronger  and  stronger,  until  they  were  able 
to  run  about,  and  then  they  used  to  play  of  a  morning 
at  the  mouth  of  the  Bandicote's  hole,  running  in  there 
to  sleep  every  night.  But  one  fine  day  who  should 
come  by  but  the  wicked  old  nurse !  Fortunately,  all 
the  boys  were  in  the  hole,  and  the  little  girl,  who  v/as 
playing  outside,  on  seeing  her  ran  in  there  too,  but  not 
before  the  nurse  had  seen  her.  She  immediately  went 
to  the  twelve  Ranees  and  related  this,  saying,  "  I  can- 
not help  thinking  some  of  the  children  may  still  be  liv- 
ing in  those  rat-holes.  You  had  better  send  and  have 
them  dug  out  and  killed."  "  We  dare  not  do  that," 
answered  they,  "  for  fear  of  causing  suspicion  ;  but  we 
will  order  some  laborers  to  dig  up  that  ground  and 
make  it  into  a  field,  and  that  will  effectually  smother 
any  of  the  children  who  may  still  be  alive."  This 
plan  was  approved  and  forthwith  carried  into  execu- 
tion ;  but  the  good  Bandicote,  who  happened  that  day 
to  be  out  on  a  foraging  expedition  in  the  palace,  heard 
all  about  it  there,  and  immediately  running  home,  took 
all  the  children  from  her  hole  to  a  large  well  some  dis- 
tance off,  where  she  hid  them  in  the  hollows  behind 
th;  steps  leading  down  to  the  well,  laying  one  child 
tinder  each  step. 

Here  they  would  have  been  quite  safe,  bad  not  the 


88  Old  Deccan  Days. 

Dhobee*  happened  to  go  down  to  the  well  that  day  to 
wash  some  clothes,  taking  with  him  his  little  girl. 
While  her  father  was  drawing  up  water,  the  child 
amused  herself  running  up  and  down  the  steps  of  the 
well.  Now  each  time  her  weight  pressed  down  a  step 
it  gave  the  child  hidden  underneath  a  little  squeeze. 
All  the  hundred  boys  bore  this  without  uttering  a 
sound ;  but  when  the  Dhobee's  child  trod  on  the  step 
under  which  the  little  girl  was  hidden,  she  cried  out, 
"  How  can  you  be  so  cruel  to  me,  trampling  on  me  in 
this  way?  Have  pity  on  me,  for  I  am  a  little  girl  as 
well  as  you." 

When  the  child  heard  these  words  proceeding  from 
the  stone,  she  ran  in  great  alarm  to  her  father,  saying, 
"  Father,  I  don't  know  what's  the  matter,  but  something 
alive  is  certainly  under  those  stones.  I  heard  it  speak ; 
but  whether  it  is  a  Rakshas  or  an  angel  or  a  human 
being  I  cannot  tell."  Then  the  Dhobee  went  to  the 
twelve  Ranees  to  tell  them  the  wonderful  news  about 
the  voice  in  the  well ;  and  they  said  to  each  other, 
"  Maybe  if  s  some  of  Guzra  Bai's  children  ;  let  us  send 
and  have  this  inquired  into."  So  they  sent  some  peo- 
ple to  pull  down  the  well  and  see  if  some  evil  spirits 
were  not  there. 

Then  laborers  went  to  pull  down  the  well.  Now 
close  to  the  well  was  a  little  temple  dedicated  to  Gun- 
putti,  containing  a  small  shrine  and  a  little  clay  image 
of  the  god.  When  the  children  felt  the  well  being 
pulled  down  they  called  out  for  help  and  protection  to 
Gunputti,  who  took  pity  on  them  and  changed  them 
into  trees  growing  by  his  temple — a  hundred  little 
mango  trees  all  round  in  a  circle  (which  were  the  ^un 
*  Washerman. 


Truth's  Triumph.  89 

dred  little  boys),  and  a  little  rose  bush  in  the  middle, 
covered  with  red  and  white  roses,  which  was  the  little 
girl. 

The  laborers  pulled  down  the  well,  but  they  found 
nothing  there  but  a  poor  old  Bandicote,  which  they 
killed.  Then,  by  order  of  the  twelve  wicked  Ranees, 
the  sacrilegiously  destroyed  the  little  temple.  But  they 
found  no  children  there  either.  However,  the  Dhobee's 
mischievous  little  daughter  had  gone  with  her  father  to 
witness  the  work  of  destruction,  and  as  they  were  look- 
ing on,  she  said,  "  Father,  do  look  at  all  those  funny 
little  trees ;  I  never  remember  noticing  them  here  be- 
fore." And  being  very  inquisitive,  she  started  off  to 
have  a  nearer  look  at  them.  There  in  a  circle  grew 
the  hundred  little  mango  trees,  and  in  the  centre  of  all 
the  little  rose  bush,  bearing  the  red  and  white  roses. 

The  girl  rushed  by  the  mango  trees,  who  uttered  no 
words,  and  running  up  to  the  rose  bush,  began  gather- 
ing some  of  the  flowers.  At  this  the  rose  bush  trem- 
bled very  much,  and  sighed  and  said,  "  I  am  a  little 
girl  as  well  as  you ;  how  can  you  be  so  cruel  ?  You 
are  breaking  all  my  ribs."  Then  the  child  ran  back  to 
her  father  and  said,  "  Come  and  listen  to  what  the 
rose  bush  says."  And  the  father  repeated  the  news  to 
the  twelve  Ranees,  who  ordered  that  a  great  fire  should 
be  made,  and  the  hundred  and  one  little  trees  be  burnt 
in  it,  root  and  branch,  till  not  a  stick  remained. 

The  fire  was  made,  and  the  hundred  and  one  little 
trees  were  dug  up  and  just  going  to  be  put  into  it, 
when  Gunputti,  taking  pity  on  them,  caused  a  tremen- 
dous storm  to  come  on,  which  put  out  the  fire  and 
flooded  the  country  and  swept  the  hundred  and  one 
trees  into  the  river,  where  they  were  carried  down  a 
8* 


(to  Old  Deccan  Days. 

long,  long  way  by  the  torrent,  until  at  last  the  children 
were  landed,  restored  to  their  own  shapes,  on  the  river 
bank,  in  the  midst  of  a  wild  jungle,  very  far  from  any 
human  habitation. 

Here  these  children  lived  for  ten  years,  happy  in 
their  mutual  love  and  affection.  Generally  every  day 
fifty  of  the  boys  would  go  out  to  collect  loots  and  ber- 
ries for  their  food,  leaving  fifty  at  home  to  take  care  of 
their  little  sister :  but  sometimes  they  put  her  in  some 
safe  place,  and  all  would  go  out  together  for  the  day ; 
nor  were  they  ever  molested  in  their  excursions  by 
bear,  panther,  snake,  scorpion,  or  other  noxious  crea- 
ture. One  day  all  the  brothers  put  their  little  sister 
safely  up  in  a  fine  shady  tree,  and  went  out  together  to 
hunt.  After  rambling  on  for  some  time,  they  came  to 
the  hut  of  a  savage  Rakshas,  who  in  the  disguise  of  an 
old  woman  had  lived  for  many  years  in  the  jungle. 
The  Rakshas,  angry  at  this  invasion  of  her  domain,  no 
sooner  saw  them  than  she  changed  them  all  into  crows. 
Night  came  on,  and  their  little  sister  was  anxiously 
awaiting  her  brothers'  return,  when  on  a  sudden  she 
heard  a  loud  whirring  sound  in  the  air,  and  round  the 
tree  flocked  a  hundred  black  crows,  cawing  and  offer- 
ing her  berries  and  roots  which  they  had  dug  up  with 
their  sharp  bills.  Then  the  little  sister  guessed  too 
truly  what  must  have  happened — that  some  malignant 
spirit  had  metamorphosed  her  brothers  into  this  hideous 
shape  ;  and  at  the  sad  sight  she  began  to  cry. 

Time  wore  on  ;  every  morning  the  crows  flew  away 
t'  collect  food  for  her  and  for  themselves,  and  every 
evening  they  returned  to  roost  in  the  branches  of  the 
high  tree  where  she  sat  the  livelong  day,  crying  as  if 
her  heart  would  break. 


Truth's  Triumph.  91 

At  last  so  many  bitter  tears  had  she  shed  that  they 
made  a  little  stream  which  flowed  from  the  foot  of  the 
tree  right  down  through  the  jungle. 

Some  months  after  this,  one  fine  day,  a  young  Rajah 
from  a  neighboring  country  happened  to  be  hunting 
in  this  very  jungle  ;  but  he  had  not  been  very  success- 
ful. Toward  the  close  of  the  day  he  found  himself 
faint  and  weary,  having  missed  his  way  and  lost  his 
comrades,  with  no  companion  save  his  dogs,  who, 
being  thirsty,  ran  hurriedly  hither  and  thither  in  search 
of  water.  After  some  time,  they  saw  in  the  distance 
w.iat  looked  like  a  clear  stream  :  the  dogs  rushed  there 
and  the  tired  prince,  following  them,  flung  himself 
down  on  the  grass  by  the  water's  brink,  thinking  to  sleep 
there  for  the  night ;  and,  with  his  hands  under  his 
head,  stared  up  into  the  leafy  branches  of  the  tree  above 
him.  Great  was  his  astonishment  to  see  high  up  in 
the  air  an  immense  number  of  crows,  and  above  them  all 
a  most  lovely  young  girl,  who  was  feeding  them  with 
berries  and  wild  fruits.  Quick  as  thought,  he  climbed 
the  tree,  and  bringing  her  carefully  and  gently  down, 
seated  her  on  the  grass  beside  him,  saying,  "  Tell  me, 
pretty  lady,  who  you  are,  and  how  you  come  to  be  liv- 
ing in  this  dreary  palace  ?"  So  she  told  him  all  her 
adventures,  except  that  she  did  not  say  the  hundred 
crows  were  her  hundred  brothers.  Then  the  Rajah 
said,  "  Do  not  cry  any  more,  fair  Princess  ;  you  shall 
come  home  with  me  and  be  my  Ranee,  and  my  father 
and  mother  shall  be  yours."  At  this  she  smiled  and 
dried  her  eyes,  but  quickly  added,  "  You  will  let  me 
take  these  crows  with  me,  will  you  not?  for  I  love 
them  dearly,  and  I  cannot  go  away  unless  they  may 
come  too."  "  To  be  sure,"  he  answered.  "  You  may 


pa  Old  Deccan  Days. 

bring  all  the  animals  in  the  jungle  with  you,  if  you  like, 
so  you  will  only  come." 

So  he  took  her  home  to  his  father's  house,  and  the 
old  Rajah  and  Ranee  wondered  much  at  this  jungle 
Lady,  when  they  saw  her  rare  beauty,  her  modest 
gentle  ways  and  her  queenly  grace.  Then  the  young 
Rajah  told  them  how  she  was  a  persecuted  Princess, 
and  asked  their  leave  to  marry  her ;  and  because  her 
loving  goodness  had  won  all  hearts,  they  gave  their 
consent  as  joyfully  as  if  she  had  been  daughter  of  the 
greatest  of  Rajahs,  and  brought  with  her  a  splendid 
dower ;  and  they  called  her  Draupadi  Bai.* 

Draupadi  had  some  beautiful  trees  planted  in  front 
of  her  palace,  in  which  the  crows,  her  brothers,  used 
to  live,  and  she  daily  with  her  own  hands  boiled  a 
quantity  of  rice,  which  she  would  scatter  for  them  to 
eat  as  they  flocked  around  her.  Now  some  time  after 
this,  Draupadi  Bai  had  a  son,  who  was  called  Ram- 
chundra.  He  was  a  very  good  boy,  and  his  mother 
Draupadi  Bai  used  to  take  him  to  school  every  morn- 
ing, and  go  and  fetch  him  home  in  the  evening.  But 
one  day,  when  Ramchundra  was  about  fourteen  years 
old,  it  happened  that  Draupadi  Bai  did  not  go  to  fetch 
him  home  from  school  as  she  was  wont ;  and  on  his 
return  he  found  her  sitting  under  the  trees  in  front  of 
her  palace,  stroking  the  glossy  black  crows  that  flocked 
around  her,  and  weeping. 

Then  Ramchundra  threw  down  his  bundle  of  books, 
and  said  to  his  mother,  putting  his  elbows  on  her  knees, 
and  looking  up  in  her  face,  "Mammy,  dear,  tell  me 

*  Doubtless  after  the  beautiful  Princess  Draupadi,  daughter 
of  the  Rajah  of  Panchala.  and  a  famous  character  in  the  great 
Hindoo  epic,  the  "  Maha  Bharata." 


Truth's   Triumph.  93 

why  you  are  now  crying,  and  what  it  is  that  makes  you 
so  often  sad."  "  Oh,  nothing,  nothing,"  she  answered. 
"Yes,  dear  mother,"  said  he,  "do  tell  me.  Can  I  help 
you  ?  If  I  can,  I  will."  Draupadi  Bai  shook  her  head. 
"  Alas,  no,  my  son,"  she  said  ;  "  you  are  too  young  to 
help  me ;  and  as  for  my  grief,  I  have  never  told  it  to 
any  one.  I  cannot  tell  it  to  you  now."  But  Ram- 
chundra  continued  begging  and  praying  her  to  tell  him, 
until  at  last  she  did ;  relating  to  him  all  her  own  and 
his  uncles'  sad  history ;  and  lastly,  how  they  had  been 
changed  by  a  Rakshas  into  the  black  crows  he  saw 
around  him.  Then  the  boy  sprang  up  and  saidv 
"  Which  way  did  your  brothers  take  when  they  met 
the  Rakshas  ?"  "  How  can  I  tell  ?"  she  asked.  "  Why," 
he  answered,  "  I  thought  perhaps  you  might  remem- 
ber on  which  side  they  returned  that  first  night  to  you, 
after  being  bewitched?"  "Oh,"  she  said,  "they  came 
toward  the  tree  from  that  part  of  the  jungle  which  lies 
in  a  straight  line  behind  the  palace."  "Very  well," 
cried  Ramchundra,  joyfully,  "  I  also  will  go  there, 
and  find  out  this  wicked  old  Rakshas,  and  learn  by 
what  means  they  may  be  disenchanted."  "No,  no,  my 
son,"  she  answered,  "  I  cannot  let  you  go :  see,  I  have 
lost  father  and  mother,  and  these  my  hundred  brothers ; 
and  now,  if  you  fall  into  the  Rakshas'  clutches  as  well 
as  they,  and  are  lost  to  me,  what  will  life  have  worth 
living  for?"  To  this  he  replied,  "Do  not  fear  for  me, 
mother  ;  I  will  be  wary  and  discreet."  And  going  to 
his  father,  he  said,  "  Father,  it  is  time  I  should  see 
something  of  the  world.  I  beg  you  to  permit  me  to 
travel  and  see  other  lands."  The  Rajah  answered, 
"  You  shall  go.  Tell  me  what  attendants  you  would 
like  to  accompany  you  ?"  "  Give  me,"  said  Ramchun- 


94  Old  Deccan  Days. 

dra,  "  a  horse  to  ride,  and  a  groom  to  take  care  of  it." 
The  Rajah  consented,  and  Ramchundra  set  off  riding 
toward  the  jungle  ;  but  as  soon  as  he  got  there,  he  sent 
his  horse  back  by  the  groom  with  a  message  to  his 
parents,  and  proceeded  alone,  on  foot. 

After  wandering  about  for  some  time  he  came  upon 
a  small  hut,  in  which  lay  an  ugly  old  woman  fast 
asleep.  She  had  long  claws  instead  of  hands,  and  her 
hair  hung  down  all  around  her  in  a  thick  black  tangle. 
Ramchundra  knew,  by  the  whole  appearance  of  the 
place,  that  he  must  have  reached  the  Rakshas'  abode 
of  which  he  was  in  search  ;  so,  stealing  softly  in,  he  sat 
down  and  began  shampooing  her  head.  At  last  the 
Rakshas  woke  up.  "  You  dear  little  boy,"  she  said, 
"  do  not  be  afraid ;  I  am  only  a  poor  old  woman,  and 
will  not  hurt  you.  Stay  with  me,  and  you  shall  be  my 
servant."  This  she  said  not  from  any  feeling  of  kind- 
ness or  pity  for  Ramchundra,  but  merely  because  she 
thought  he  might  be  helpful  to  her.  So  the  young 
Rajah  remained  in  her  service,  determining  to  stay 
there  till  he  should  have  learnt  from  her  all  that  he 
wished  to  know. 

Thus  one  day  he  said  to  her,  "  Good  mother,  what 
is  the  use  of  all  those  little  jars  of  water  you  have  ar- 
ranged round  your  house?"  She  answered,  "That 
water  possesses  certain  magical  attributes  :  if  any  of  it 
is  sprinkled  on  people  enchanted  by  me,  they  instantly 
resume  their  former  shape."  "  And  what,"  he  con- 
tinued, "  is  the  use  of  your  wand  ?"  "  That,"  she  re- 
plied, "  has  many  supernatural  powers :  for  instance, 
by  simply  uttering  your  wish  and  waving  it  in  the  air, 
you  can  conjure  up  a  mountain,  a  river  or  a  forest  io 
A  moment  of  time  " 


Truth's  Triumph.  95 

Another  day  Ramchundra  said  to  her,  "Your  hair, 
good  mother,  is  dreadfully  tangled  ;  pray  let  me  comb 
it."  "  No,"  she  said,  "  you  must  not  touch  my  hair  ;  it 
would  be  dangerous ;  for  every  hair  has  power  to  set 
the  jungle  on  fire."  "  How  is  that?"  he  asked.  She 
replied,  "  The  least  fragment  of  my  hair  thrown  in  the 
direction  of  the  jungle  would  instantly  set  it  in  a  blaze/' 
Having  learnt  all  this,  one  day  when  it  was  very  hot, 
and  the  old  Rakshas  was  drowsy,  Ramchundra  begged 
leave  to  shampoo  her  head,  which  speedily  sent  her  to 
sleep ;  then,  gently  pulling  out  two  or  three  of  her 
hairs,  he  got  up,  and  taking  in  one  hand  her  wand,  and 
in  the  other  two  jars  of  the  magic  water,  he  stealthily 
left  the  hut ;  but  he  had  not  gone  far  before  she  woke 
up,  and  instantly  divining  what  he  had  done,  pursued 
him  with  great  rapidity.  Ramchundra,  looking  back 
and  perceiving  that  she  was  gaining  upon  him,  waved 
the  enchanted  wand  and  created  a  great  river,  which 
suddenly  rolled  Hs  tumultuous  waves  between  them ; 
but,  quick  as  thought,  the  Rakshas  swam  the  river. 

Then  he  turned,  and  waving  the  wand  again,  caused 
a  high  mountain  to  rise  between  them ;  but  the  Rak- 
shas climbed  the  mountain.  Nearer  she  came,  and  yet 
nearer ;  each  time  he  turned  to  use  the  wand  and  put 
obstacles  in  her  way,  the  delay  gave  her  a  few  minutes' 
advantage,  so  that  he  lost  almost  as  much  as  he  gained. 
Then,  as  a  last  resource,  he  scattered  the  hairs  he  had 
stolen  to  the  winds,  and  instantly  the  jungle  on  the 
hill  side,  through  which  the  Rakshas  was  coming,  was 
set  in  a  blaze ;  the  fire  rose  higher  and  higher,  the 
wicked  old  Rakshas  was  consumed  by  the  flames,  and 
Ramchundra  pursued  his  journey  in  safety  until  he 
reached  his  father's  palace.  Draupadi  Bai  was  over- 


96  Old  Deccan  Days. 

joyed  to  see  her  son  again,  and  he  led  her  out  into  th« 
garden,  and  scattered  the  magic  water  on  the  hundred 
black  crows,  which  instantly  recovered  their  human 
forms,  and  stood  up  one  hundred  fine,  handsome  young 
men. 

Then  were  there  rejoicings  throughout  the  country, 
because  the  Ranee's  brothers  had  been  disenchanted ; 
and  the  Rajah  sent  out  into  all  neighboring  lands  to  in- 
vite their  Rajahs  and  Ranees  to  a  great  feast  in  honor 
of  his  brothers-in-law. 

Among  others  who  came  to  the  feast  was  the  Rajah 
Draupadi  Bai's  father,  and  the  twelve  wicked  Ranees 
his  wives. 

When  they  were  all  assembled,  Draupadi  arose,  and 
said  to  him,  "  Noble  sir,  we  had  looked  to  see  your 
wife  Guzra  Bai  with  you.  Pray  you  tell  us  wherefore 
she  has  not  accompanied  you."  The  Rajah  was 
much  surprised  to  learn  that  Draupadi  Bai  knew  any- 
thing about  Guzra  Bai,  and  he  said,  "  Speak  not  of 
her :  she  is  a  wicked  woman  ;  it  is  fit  that  she  should 
end  her  days  in  prison."  But  Draupadi  Bai  and  her 
husband,  and  her  hundred  brothers,  rose  and  said, 
"We  require,  O  Rajah,  that  you  send  home  instantly 
and  fetch  hither  that  much  injured  lady,  which,  if  you 
refuse  to  do,  your  wives  shall  be  imprisoned,  and  you 
ignominiously  expelled  this  kingdom." 

The  Rajah  could  not  guess  what  the  meaning  of  this 
was,  and  thought  they  merely  wished  to  pick  a  quarrel 
with  him ;  but  not  much  caring  whether  Guzra  Bai 
came  or  not,  he  sent  for  her  as  was  desired.  When 
she  arrived,  her  daughter  Draupadi  Bai,  and  her  hun- 
dred sons,  with  Draupadi  Bai's  husband  and  the  young 
Ramchundra,  went  out  to  the  gate  to  meet  her,  and 


Truth's   Triumph.  97 

conducted  her  into  the  palace  with  all  honor.  Then, 
standing  around  her,  they  turned  to  the  Rajah  her  hus- 
band, and  related  to  him  the  story  of  their  lives  ;  how 
that  they  were  his  children,  and  Guzra  Bai  their  mo- 
ther ;  how  she  had  been  cruelly  calumniated  by  the 
twelve  wicked  Ranees,  and  they  in  constant  peril  of 
their  lives  ;  but  having  miraculously  escaped  many  ter- 
rible dangers,  still  lived  to  pay  him  duteous  service 
and  to  cheer  and  support  his  old  age. 

At  this  news  the  whole  company  was  very  much  as- 
tonished. The  Rajah,  overjoyed,  embraced  his  wife 
Guzra  Bai,  and  it  was  agreed  that  she  and  their  hun- 
dred sons  should  return  with  him  to  his  own  land, 
which  accordingly  was  done.  Ramchundra  lived  very 
happily  with  his  father  and  mother  to  the  day  of  their 
death,  when  he  ascended  the  throne,  and  became  a 
very  popular  Rajah  ;  and  the  twelve  wicked  old  Ra- 
nees, who  had  conspired  against  Guzra  Bai  and  her 
children,  were,  by  order  of  the  Rajah,  burnt  to  death. 
Thus  truth  triumphed  in  the  end ;  but  so  unequally  is 
human  justice  meted  out  that  the  old  nurse,  who 
worked  their  evil  will,  and  was  in  fact  the  most  guilty 
wretch  of  all,  is  said  to  have  lived  unpunished,  to  have 
died  in  the  bosom  of  her  family,  and  to  have  had  as 
big  a  funeral  pile  as  any  virtuous  Hindoo. 
9  E 


V. 

RAMA  AND  LUXMAN;  OR,  THE  LEARNED  OWL. 

"  With  a  lengthened  loud  halloo, 
Tuwhoo,  tuwhit,  tuwhit,  tuwhoo." 

ONCE  upon  a  time  there  was  a  Rajah  whose  name 
was  Chandra  Rajah,*  and  he  had  a  learned 
Wuzeer  or  Minister,  named  Butti.  Their  mutual  love 
was  so  great  that  they  were  more  like  brothers  than 
master  and  servant.  Neither  the  Rajah  nor  the  Wu- 
zeer had  any  children,  and  both  were  equally  anxious 
to  have  a  son.  At  last,  in  one  day  and  one  hour,  the 
wife  of  the  Rajah  and  the  wife  of  the  Wuzeer  had  each 
a  little  baby  boy.  They  named  the  Rajah's  son  Rama, 
and  the  son  of  the  Wuzeer  was  called  Luxman,  and 
there  were  great  rejoicings  at  the  birth  of  both.  The 
boys  grew  up  and  loved  each  other  tenderly :  they  were 
never  happy  unless  together ;  together  they  went  to 
daily  school,  together  bathed  and  played,  and  they 
would  not  eat  except  from  off  one  plate.  One  day, 
when  Rama  Rajah  was  fifteen  years  old,  his  mother, 
the  Ranee,  said  to  Chandra  Rajah :  "  Husband,  our 
son  associates  too  much  with  low  people ;  for  instance, 
he  is  always  at  play  with  the  Wuzeer's  son,  Luxman, 
which  is  not  befitting  his  rank.  I  wish  you  would 

*  Moon-King. 
ft 


Rama  and  Luxman;  or,  The  Learned  Owl.     99 

endeavor  to  put  an  end  to  their  friendship,  and  find 
him  better  playmates." 

Chandra  Rajah  replied,  "  I  cannot  do  it :  Luxman's 
father  is  my  very  good  friend  and  Wuzeer,  as  his 
father's  father  was  to  my  father ;  let  the  sons  be  the 
same."  This  answer  annoyed  the  Ranee,  but  she  said 
no  more  to  her  husband  ;  she  sent,  however,  for  all  the 
wise  people,  and  seers,  and  conjurors  in  the  land,  and 
inquired  of  them  whether  there  existed  no  means  of 
dissolving  the  children's  affection  for  each  other ;  they 
answered  they  knew  of  none.  At  last  one  old  Nautch* 
woman  came  to  the  Ranee  and  said,  "  I  can  do  this 
thing  you  wish,  but  for  it  you  must  give  me  a  great 
reward."  Then  the  Ranee  gave  the  old  woman  an 
enormous  bag  full  of  gold  mohurs,f  and  said,  "  This  I 
give  you  now,  and  if  you  succeed  in  the  undertaking  I 
will  give  you  as  much  again."  So  this  wicked  oM 
woman  disguised  herself  in  a  very  rich  dress,  and  went 
to  a  garden-house  which  Chandra  Rajah  had  built  for 
his  son,  and  where  Rama  Rajah  and  Luxman,  the 
young  Wuzeer,  used  to  spend  the  greater  part  of  their 
playtime.  Outside  the  house  was  a  large  well  and  a 
fine  garden.  When  the  old  woman  arrived,  the  two 
boys  were  playing  cards  together  in  the  garden  close 
to  the  well.  She  drew  near,  and  began  drawing  water 
from  it.  Rama  Rajah  looking  up,  saw  her,  and  said 
to  Luxman,  "  Go,  see  who  that  richly-dressed  woman 
is,  and  bring  me  word."  The  Wuzeer's  son  did  as  he 
was  bidden,  and  asked  the  woman  what  she  wanted. 
She  answered,  "  Nothing,  oh  nothing,"  and  nodding 
her  head  went  away ;  then,  returning  to  the  Ranee, 

*  The  caste  to  which  conjurors  belong 
f  Gold  pieces,  worth  about  $7.50. 


100  Old  Deccan  Days. 

she  said,  "  I  have  done  as  you  wished ;  give  me  the 
promised  reward,"  and  the  Ranee  gave  her  the  second 
bag  of  gold.  On  Luxman's  return,  the  young  Rajah 
said  to  him,  "  What  did  the  woman  want?"  Luxman 
answered,  "  She  told  me  she  wanted  nothing."  "  It  is 
not  true,"  replied  the  other,  angrily ;  "  I  feel  certain 
she  must  have  told  you  something.  Why  should  she 
come  here  for  no  purpose?  It  is  some  secret  which 
you  are  concealing  from  me ;  I  insist  on  knowing  it." 
Luxman  vainly  protesting  his  innocence,  they  quar- 
reled and  then  fought,  and  the  young  Rajah  ran  home 
very  angry  to  his  father.  "  What  is  the  matter,  my 
son  ?"  said  he.  "  Father,"  he  answered,  "  I  am  angry 
with  the  Wuzeer's  son.  I  hate  that  boy ;  kill  him,  and 
let  his  eyes  be  brought  to  me  in  proof  of  his  death,  or 
I  will  not  eat  my  dinner."  Chandra  Rajah  was  very 
much  grieved  at  this,  but  the  young  Rajah  would  eat 
no  dinner,  and  at  last  his  father  said  to  the  Wuzeer, 
"  Take  your  son  away  and  hide  him,  for  the  boys  have 
had  a  quarrel."  Then  he  went  out  and  shot  a  deer,  and 
showing  its  eyes  to  Rama,  said  to  him,  "  See,  my 
son,  the  good  Wuzeer's  son  has  by  your  order  been 
deprived  of  life,"  and  Rama  Rajah  was  merry,  and  ate 
his  dinner.  But  a  while  after  he  began  to  miss  his  kind 
playmate ;  there  was  nobody  he  cared  for  to  tell  him 
stories  and  amuse  him.  Then  for  four  nights  running 
he  dreamed  of  a  beautiful  Glass  Palace,  in  which  dwelt 
a  Princess  white  as  marble,  and  he  sent  for  all  the  wise 
people  in  the  kingdom  to  interpret  his  dream,  but  none 
could  do  it ;  and,  thinking  upon  this  fair  princess  and 
ms  lost  friend,  he  got  more  and  more  sad,  and  said  to 
himself:  "  There  is  nobody  to  help  me  in  this  matter. 
Ah  1  if  my  Wuzeer's  son  were  here  now,  how  quickly 


Rama  and  Luxman;  or,  The  Learned  Choi.    101 

would  he  interpret  the  dream !  Oh,  my  friend,  my 
friend,  my  dear  lost  friend  !"  and  when  Chandra  Rajah, 
his  father,  came  in,  he  said  to  him :  "  Show  me  the 
grave  of  Luxman,  son  of  the  Wuzeer,  that  I  also  may 
die  there."  His  father  replied,  "  What  a  foolish  boy 
you  are  !  You  first  begged  that  the  Wuzeer's  son  might 
be  killed,  and  now  you  want  to  die  on  his  grave.  What 
is  all  this  about?"  Rama  Rajah  replied,  "  Oh,  why  did 
you  give  the  order  for  him  to  be  put  to  death  ?  In  him 
I  have  lost  my  friend  and  all  my  joy  in  life  ;  show  me 
now  his  grave,  for  thereon,  I  swear,  will  I  kill  myself." 
When  the  Rajah  saw  that  his  son  really  grieved  for  the 
loss  of  Luxman,  he  said  to  him,  "  You  have  to  thank 
me  for  not  regarding  your  foolish  wishes ;  your  old 
playmate  is  living,  therefore  be  friends  again,  for  what 
you  thought  were  his  eyes  were  but  the  eyes  of  a  deer." 
So  the  friendship  of  Rama  and  Luxman  was  resumed 
on  its  former  footing.  Then  Rama  said  to  Luxman, 
"  Four  nights  ago  I  dreamed  a  strange  dream.  I 
thought  that  for  miles  and  miles  I  wandered  through  a 
dense  jungle,  after  which  I  came  upon  a  grove  of 
Cocoa-nut  trees,  passing  through  which  I  reached  one 
compound  entirely  of  Guava  trees,  then  one  of  Soparee* 
trees,  and  lastly  one  of  Copal  trees :  beyond  this  lay  a 
garden  of  flowers,  of  which  the  Malee's  wife  gave  me 
a  bunch ;  round  the  garden  ran  a  large  river,  and  on 
the  other  side  of  this  I  saw  a  fair  palace  composed  of 
transparent  glass,  and  in  the  centre  of  it  sat  the  most 
lovely  Princess  I  ever  saw,  white  as  marble  and  covered 
with  rich  jewels  ;  at  the  sight  of  her  beauty  I  fainted — 
and  so  awoke.  This  has  happened  now  four  times, 
and  as  yet  I  have  found  no  one  capable  of  throwing 
*  Areca  catechu — the  betel-nut  palm. 


102  Old  Deccan  Days. 

any  light  on  the  vision."  Luxman  answered,  "  I  can 
tell  you.  There  exists  a  Princess  exactly  like  her  you 
saw  in  your  dreams,  and,  if  you  like,  you  can  go  and 
marry  her."  "  How  can  I  ?"  said  Rama  ;  "  and  what 
is  your  interpretation  of  the  dream  ?"  The  Wazeer' 
son  replied,  "  Listen  to  me,  and  I  will  tell  you.  In  a 
country  very  far  away  from  this,  in  the  centre  of  a  great 
Rajah's  kingdom,  there  dwells  his  daughter,  a  most 
fair  Princess  ;  she  lives  in  a  glass  palace.  Round  this 
palace  runs  a  large  river,  and  round  the  river  is  a  garden 
of  flowers.  Round  the  garden  are  four  thick  groves  of 
trees — one  of  Copal  trees,  one  of  Soparee  trees,  one  ot 
Guava  trees,  and  one  of  Cocoa-nut  trees.  The  Princess 
is  twenty-four  years  old,  but  she  is  not  married,  for  she 
has  determined  only  to  marry  whoever  can  jump  this 
river  and  greet  her  in  her  crystal  palace,  and  though 
many  thousand  kings  have  essayed  to  do  so,  they  have 
all  perished  miserably  in  the  attempt,  having  either 
been  drowned  in  the  river,  or  broken  their  necks  by 
falling  ;  thus  all  that  you  dreamed  of  is  perfectly  true." 
"  Can  we  go  to  this  country?"  asked  the  young  Rajah. 
"  Oh,  yes,"  his  friend  replied.  "  This  is  what  you  must 
do.  Go  tell  your  father  you  wish  to  see  the  world. 
Ask  him  for  neither  elephants  nor  attendants,  but  beg 
him  to  lend  you  for  the  journey  his  old  war-horse." 

Upon  this  Rama  went  to  his  father,  and  said, 
"  Father,  I  pray  you  give  me  leave  to  go  and  travel 
with  the  Wuzeer's  son.  I  desire  to  see  the  world." 
"  What  would  you  have  for  the  journey,  my  son  ?"  said 
Chandra  Rajah  ;  "  will  you  have  elephants  and  how 
many? — attendants,  how  many?"  "Neither,  father," 
he  answered,  "  give  me  rather,  I  pray  you,  your  old 
war-horse,  that  I  may  ride  him  during  the  jcurney." 


Rama  and  Luxman;  or,  TTie  Learned  Owl.     103 

"  So  be  it,  my  son,"  he  answered,  and  with  that  Rama 
Rajah  and  Luxman  set  forth  on  their  travels.  After 
going  many,  many  thousands  of  miles,  to  their  joy  one 
day  they  come  upon  a  dense  grove  of  Cocoa-nut  trees, 
and  beyond  that  to  a  grove  of  Guava  trees,  then  to  one 
of  Soparee  trees,  and  lastly  to  one  of  Copal  trees  ;  after 
which  they  entered  a  beautiful  garden,  where  the 
Malee's  wife  presented  them  with  a  large  bunch  of 
flowers.  Then  they  knew  that  they  had  nearly  reached 
the  place  where  the  fair  Princess  dwelt.  Now  it  hap- 
pened that,  because  many  kings  and  great  people  had 
been  drowned  in  trying  to  jump  over  the  river  that  ran 
round  the  Glass  Palace  where  the  Princess  lived,  the 
Rajah,  her  father,  had  made  a  law  that,  in  future,  no 
aspirants  to  her  hand  were  to  attempt  the  jump,  except 
at  stated  times  and  with  his  knowledge  and  permission, 
and  that  any  Rajahs  or  Princes  found  wandering  there, 
contrary  to  this  law,  were  to  be  imprisoned.  Of  this 
the  young  Rajah  and  the  Wuzeer's  son  knew  nothing, 
and  having  reached  the  centre  of  the  garden  they  found 
themselves  on  the  banks  of  a  large  river,  exactly  oppo- 
site the  wondrous  Glass  Palace,  and  were  just  debating 
what  further  steps  to  take,  when  they  were  seized  by 
the  Rajah's  guard,  and  hurried  off  to  prison. 

"  This  is  a  hard  fate,"  said  Luxman.  "  Yes,"  sighed 
Rama  Rajah  ;  "  a  dismal  end,  in  truth,  to  all  our  fine 
schemes.  Would  it  be  possible,  think  you,  to  escape?" 
"  I  think  so,"  answered  Luxman  ;  "  at  all  events,  I  will 
try."  With  that  he  turned  to  the  sentry  who  was 
guarding  them,  and  said,  "  We  are  shut  in  here  and 
can't  get  out :  here  is  money  for  you  if  you  will  only 
have  the  goodness  to  call  out  that  the  Malee's  Cow  has 
strayed  away."  The  sentry  thought  this  a  very  easy 


104  Old  Deccan  Days. 

way  of  /naking  a  fortune  ;  so  he  called  out  as  he  was 
bidden,  and  took  the  money.  The  result  answered 
Luxman's  anticipations.  The  Malee's  wife,  hearing 
the  sentry  calling  out,  thought  to  herself,  "What, 
sentries  round  the  guard-room  again !  then  there  must 
be  prisoners ;  doubtless  they  are  those  two  young 
Rajahs  I  met  in  the  garden  this  morning ;  at  least,  I 
will  endeavor  to  release  them.''  So  she  asked  two  old 
beggars  to  accompany  her,  and  taking  with  her  offer- 
ings of  flowers  and  sweetmeats,  started  as  if  to  go  to  a 
little  temple  which  was  built  within  the  quadrangle 
where  the  prisoners  were  kept.  The  sentries,  thinking 
she  was  only  going  with  two  old  friends  to  visit  the 
temple,  allowed  her  to  pass  without  opposition.  As 
soon  as  she  got  within  the  quadrangle  she  unfastened 
the  prison  door,  and  told  the  two  young  men  (Rama 
Rajah  and  Luxman)  to  change  clothes  with  the  two 
old  beggars,  which  they  instantly  did.  Then,  leaving 
the  beggars  in  the  cell,  she  conducted  Rama  and  Lux- 
man safely  to  her  house.  When  they  had  reached  it 
she  said  to  them,  "Young  Princes,  you  must  know  that 
you  did  very  wrong  in  going  down  to  the  river  before 
having  made  a  salaam  to  our  Rajah,  and  gained  his 
consent ;  and  so  strict  is  the  law  on  the  subject  that  had 
I  not  assisted  your  escape,  you  might  have  remained  a 
long  time  in  prison  ;  though,  as  I  felt  certain  you  only 
erred  through  ignorance,  I  was  the  more  willing  to 
help  you  ;  but  to-morrow  morning  early  you  must  go 
and  pay  your  respects  at  court." 

Next  day  the  guards  brought  their  two  prisoners  to 
the  Rajah,  saying ;  "  See,  O  King,  here  are  two  young 
Rajahs  whom  we  caught  last  night  wandering  near  the 
river  contrary  to  vour  law  and  commandment."  But 


Rama  and  Luxman;  or,  T7ie  Learned  Owl.     105 

when  they  came  to  look  at  the  prisoners,  lo  and  be- 
hold !  they  were  only  two  old  beggars  whom  every- 
body knew  and  had  often  seen  at  the  palace  gate. 

Then  the  Rajah  laughed  and  said,  "  You  stupid  fel- 
lows, you  have  been  over  vigilant  for  once ;  see  here 
your  fine  young  Rajahs.  Don't  you  yet  know  the  looks 
of  these  old  beggars  ?"  Whereupon  the  guards  went 
away  much  ashamed  of  themselves. 

Having  learnt  discretion  from  the  advice  of  the 
Malee's  v.ife,  Rama  and  Luxman  went  betimes  that 
morning  to  call  at  the  Rajah's  palace.  The  Rajah  re- 
ceived them  very  graciously,  but  when  he  heard  the 
object  of  the  journey  he  shook  his  head,  and  said,  "My 
pretty  fellows,  far  be  it  from  me  to  thwart  your  inten- 
tions, if  you  are  really  determined  to  strive  to  win  my 
daughter,  the  Princess  Bargaruttee  ;*  but  as  a  friend  I 
would  counsel  you  to  desist  from  the  attempt.  You  can 
find  a  hundred  Princesses  elsewhere  willing  to  marry 
you  ;  why,  therefore,  come  here,  where  already  a  thou- 
sand Princes  as  fair  as  you  have  lost  there  lives  ?  Cease 
to  think  of  my  daughter — she  is  a  headstrong  girl." 
But  Rama  Rajah  still  declared  himself  anxious  to  try 
and  jump  the  dangerous  river,  whereupon  the  Rajah 
unwillingly  consented  to  his  attempting  to  do  so,  and 
caused  it  to  be  solemnly  proclaimed  around  the  town 
that  another  Prince  was  going  to  risk  his  life,  begging 
all  good  men  and  true  to  pray  for  his  success.  Then 
Rama,  having  dressed  gorgeously,  and  mounted  his 
father's  stout  war-horse,  put  spurs  to  it  and  galloped  to 
the  river.  Up,  up  in  the  air,  like  a  bird,  jumped  the 
good  war-horse,  right  across  the  river  and  into  the  very 
centre  courtyard  of  the  Glass  Palace  of  the  Princess 
*  A  name  of  the  Ganges. 


io6  Old  Deccan  Days. 

Bargaruttee ;  and,  as  if  ashamed  of  so  poor  an  exploit, 
this  feat  he  accomplished  three  times.  At  this  the 
heart  of  the  Rajah  was  glad,  and  he  ran  and  patted 
the  brave  horse,  and  kissed  Rama  Rajah,  and  said, 
"  Welcome,  my  son-in-law."  The  wedding  took  place 
amid  great  rejoicings,  with  feasts,  illuminations  and 
much  giving  of  presents,  and  there  Rama  Rajah  and 
his  wife,  the  Ranee  Bargaruttee,  lived  happily  for  some 
time.  At  last,  one  day  Rama  Rajah  said  to  his  father- 
in-law,  "  Sire,  I  have  been  very  happy  here,  but  I 
have  a  great  desire  to  see  my  father  and  my  mother, 
and  my  own  land  again."  To  which  the  Rajah  re- 
plied, "  My  son,  you  are  free  to  go  ;  but  I  have  no  son 
but  you,  nor  daughter  but  your  wife  :  therefore,  as  it 
grieves  me  to  lose  sight  of  you,  come  back  now  and 
then  to  see  me  and  rejoice  my  heart.  My  doors  are 
ever  open  to  you  ;  you  will  be  always  welcome." 

Rama  Rajah  promised  to  return  occasionally ;  and 
then,  being  given  many  rich  gifts  by  the  old  Rajah,  and 
supplied  with  all  things  needful  for  the  journey,  he, 
with  his  beautiful  wife  Bargaruttee,  his  friend  the 
young  Wuzeer,  and  a  great  retinue,  set  out  to  return 
home.  Before  going,  Rama  Rajah  and  Luxman  richly 
rewarded  the  kind  Malee's  wife,  who  had  helped  them 
so  ably.  On  the  first  evening  of  their  march  the  trav- 
elers reach  the  borders  of  the  Cocoa-nut  grove,  on  the 
outskirts  of  the  jungle ;  here  they  determined  to  halt 
and  rest  for  the  night.  Rama  Rajah  and  the  Ranee 
Bargaruttee  went  to  their  tent;  but  Luxman  (whose 
tender  love  for  them  was  so  great  that  he  usually 
watched  all  night  through  at  their  door),  was  sitting 
under  a  large  tree  close  by,  when  two  little  owls  flew 
over  hi*  head,  and  perching  on  one  of  the  highest 


Rama  and  Luxman;  or,  7%e  Learned  Owl.     107 

branches,  began  chattering  to  each  other.*  The 
Wuzeer' s  son,  who  was  in  many  ways  wiser  than  most 
men,  could  understand  their  language.  To  his  sur- 
prise he  heard  the  little  lady  owl  say  to  her  husband, 
"  I  wish  you  would  tell  me  a  story,  my  dear,  it  is  such 
a  long  time  since  I  have  heard  one."  To  which  her 
husband,  the  other  little  owl,  answered,  "A  story! 
what  story  can  I  tell  you  ?  Do  you  see  these  people 
encamped  under  our  tree?  Would  you  like  to  hear 
their  story?"  She  assented  ;  and  he  began :  "  See  first 
this  poor  Wuzeer ;  he  is  a  good  and  faithful  man,  and 
has  done  much  for  this  young  Rajah,  but  neither  has 
that  been  to  his  advantage  heretofore,  nor  will  it  be 
hereafter."  At  this  Luxman  listened  more  attentively, 
and  taking  out  his  writing  tablets  determined  to  note 
down  all  he  heard.  The  little  owl  commenced  with 
the  story  of  the  birth  of  Rama  and  Luxman,  of  their 
friendship,  their  quarrel,  the  young  Rajah's  dream,  and 
their  reconciliation,  and  then  told  of  their  subsequent 
adventures  in  search  of  the  Princess  Bargaruttee,  down 
to  that  very  day  on  which  they  were  journeying  home. 
"  And  what  more  has  Fate  in  store  for  this  poor 
Wuzeer?"  asked  the  lady  owl.  "From  this  place," 
replied  her  husband,  "  he  will  journey  on  with  the 
young  Rajah  and  Ranee,  until  they  get  very  near 
Chandra  Rajah's  dominions ;  there,  as  the  whole  cav- 
alcade is  about  to  pass  under  a  large  Banyan  tree,  this 
Wuzeer  Luxman  will  notice  some  of  the  topmost 
branches  swaying  about  in  a  dangerous  manner;  he 
will  hurry  the  Rajah  and  Ranee  away  from  it,  and  the 
tree  (which  would  otherwise  have  inevitably  killed 
them,)  will  fall  to  the  ground  with  a  tremendous  crash ; 
*  See  Notes  at  the  end. 


io8  Old  Dcccan  Days. 

but  even  his  having  thus  saved  the  Rajah's  life  shalJ 
not  avert  his  fate."  (All  this  the  Wuzeer  noted  down.) 
"And  what  next?"  said  the  wife,  "what  next?* 
"  Next,"  continued  the  wise  little  story-teller ;  "  next 
just  as  the  Rajah  Rama  and  the  Ranee  Bargaruttet 
and  all  their  suite  are  passing  under  the  palace  door- 
way, the  Wuzeer  will  notice  that  the  arch  is  insecure, 
and  by  dragging  them  quickly  through,  prevent  their 
being  crushed  in  its  fall."  "  And  what  will  he  do  after 
that,  dear  husband?"  she  asked.  "After  that,"  he 
went  on,  "  when  the  Rajah  and  Ranee  are  asleep,  and 
the  Wuzeer  Luxman  keeping  guard  over  them,  he  will 
perceive  a  large  cobra  slowly  crawling  down  the  wall 
and  drawing  nearer  and  nearer  to  the  Ranee.  He 
will  kill  it  with  his  sword,  but  a  drop  of  the  cobra's 
blood  shall  fall  on  the  Ranee's  white  forehead.  The 
Wuzeer  will  not  dare  to  wipe  the  blood  off  her  fore- 
head with  his  hand,  but  shall  instead  cover  his  face 
with  a  cloth  that  he  may  lick  it  off  with  his  tongue ; 
but  for  this  the  Rajah  will  be  angry  with  him,  and 
his  reproaches  will  turn  this  poor  Wuzeer  into 
stone." 

"  Will  he  always  remain  stone  ?"  asked  the  lady  owl. 
"  Not  for  ever,"  answered  the  husband,  "  but  for  eight 
long  years  he  will  remain  so."  "  And  what  then  ?" 
demanded  she.  "  Then,"  answered  the  other,  "  when 
the  young  Rajah  and  Ranee  have  a  baby,  it  shall  come 
to  pass  that  one  day  the  child  shall  be  playing  on  the 
floor,  and  fo  help  itself  along  shall  clasp  hold  of  the 
stony  figure,  and  at  that  baby's  touch  the  Wuzeer  will 
come  to  life  again.  But  I  have  told  you  enough  for 
one  night ;  come,  let's  catch  mice — tuwhit,  tuwhoo, 
tuwhoo,"  and  away  flew  the  owls.  Luxman  had  writ- 


Rama  and  Luxman;  or,  TTte  Learned  Owl.      109 

ten  down  all  he  heard,  and  it  made  him  heavy-hearted, 
but  he  thought,  "  Perhaps,  after  all,  this  may  not  be 
true."  So  he  said  nothing  about  it  to  any  living  soul. 
Next  day  they  continued  their  journey,  and  as  the  owl 
had  prophesied,  so  events  fell  out.  For,  as  the  whole 
party  were  passing  under  a  large  Banyan  tree,  the 
Wuzeer  noticed  that  it  looked  unsafe.  "  The  owl 
spake  truly,"  he  thought  to  himself,  and,  seizing  the 
Rajah  and  Ranee,  he  hurried  them  from  under  it, 
just  as  a  huge  limb  of  the  tree  fell  prone  with  a  fearful 
crash. 

A  little  while  after,  having  reached  Chandra  Rajah's 
dominions,  they  were  just  going  under  the  great  arch 
of  the  palace  court-yard,  when  the  Wuzeer  noticed  some 
of  the  stones  tottering.  "  The  owl  was  a  true  prophet," 
thought  he  again,  and  catching  hold  of  the  hands  of 
Rama  Rajah  and  Bargaruttee  Ranee,  he  pulled  them 
rapidly  through,  just  in  time  to  save  their  lives.  "  Par- 
don me,"  he  said  to  the  Rajah,  "  that  unbidden  I  dared 
thus  to  touch  your  hand  and  that  of  the  Ranee,  but  I 
saw  the  danger  imminent."  So  they  reached  home, 
where  they  were  joyfully  welcomed  by  Chandra  Rajah, 
the  Ranee,  the  Wuzeer  (Luxman's  father),  and  all  the 
court. 

A  few  nights  afterward,  when  the  Rajah  and  Ranee 
were  asleep,  and  the  young  Wuzeer  keeping  guard 
over  them  as  he  was  wont,  he  saw  a  large  black  cobra 
stealthily  creeping  down  the  wall  just  above  the  Ranee's 
head.  "  Alas !"  he  thought,  "  then  such  is  my  fate, 
and  so  it  must  be ;  nevertheless,  I  will  do  my  duty," 
and,  taking  from  the  folds  of  his  dress  the  history  of 
his  and  the  young  Rajah's  life,  from  their  boyhood 
down  to  that  very  time  (as  he  had  written  it  from  the 
It 


110  Old  Deccan  Days. 

owl's  narrative),  he  laid  it  beside  the  sleeping  Rama, 
and  drawing  his  sword,  killed  the  cobra.  A  few  drops 
of  the  serpent's  blood  fell  on  the  Ranee's  forehead : 
the  Wuzeer  did  not  dare  to  touch  it  with  his  hand,  but, 
that  her  sacred  brow  might  not  be  defiled  with  the  vile 
cobra's  blood,  he  reverently  covered  his  face  and  mouth 
with  a  cloth  to  lick  the  drops  of  blood  away.  At  this 
moment  the  Rajah  started  up,  and  seeing  him,  said : 
"  O  Wuzeer,  Wuzeer,  is  this  well  done  of  you  ?  O 
Luxman,  who  have  been  to  me  as  a  brother,  who  have 
saved  me  from  so  many  difficulties,  why  do  you  treat 
me  thus,  to  kiss  her  holy  forehead?  If  indeed  you 
loved  her  (as  who  could  help  it?),  could  you  not  have 
told  me  when  we  first  saw  her  in  that  Glass  Palace, 
and  I  would  have  exiled  myself  that  she  might  be  your 
wife  ?  O  my  brother,  my  brother,  why  did  you  mock 
me  thus  ?"  The  Rajah  had  buried  his  face  in  his  hands ; 
he  looked  up,  he  turned  to  the  Wuzeer,  but  from  him 
came  neither  answer  nor  reply.  He  had  become  a 
senseless  stone.  Then  Rama  for  the  first  time  per- 
ceived the  roll  of  paper  which  Luxman  had  laid  beside 
him,  and  when  he  read  in  it  of  what  Luxman  had  been 
to  him  from  boyhood,  and  of  the  end,  his  bitter  grief 
broke  through  all  bounds ;  and,  falling  at  the  feet  of 
the  statue,  he  clasped  its  stony  knees  and  wept  aloud. 
When  daylight  dawned,  Chandra  Rajah  and  the  Ranee 
found  Rama  still  weeping  and  hugging  the  stone,  ask- 
ing its  forgiveness  with  penitent  cries  and  tears.  Then 
they  said  to  him,  "What  is  this  you  have  done?" 
When  he  told  them,  the  Rajah  his  father  was  very 
angry,  and  said  :  "  Was  it  not  enough  that  you  should 
have  once  before  unjustly  desired  the  death  of  this  good 
man,  but  that  now  by  your  rash  reproaches  you  should 


Rama  and  Luxmanj  or,  The  Learned  Owl.    in 

have  turned  him  into  stone?  Go  to  ;  you  do  but  con- 
tinually what  is  evil." 

Now  eight  long  years  rolled  by  without  the  Wuzeer 
returning  to  his  original  form,  although  every  da^ 
Rama  Rajah  and  Bargaruttee  Ranee  would  watch  be- 
side him,  kissing  his  cold  hands,  and  adjuring  him  by 
all  endearing  names  to  forgive  them  and  return  to  them 
again.  When  eight  years  had  expired,  Rama  and 
Bargaruttee  had  a  child ;  and  from  the  time  it  was 
nine  months  old  and  first  began  to  try  and  crawl  about, 
the  father  and  mother  would  sit  and  watch  beside  it, 
placing  it  near  the  Wuzeer's  statue,  in  hopes  that  the 
baby  would  some  day  touch  it  as  the  owl  had  fore- 
told. 

But  for  three  months  they  watched  in  vain.  At  last, 
one  day  when  the  child  was  a  year  old,  and  was  trying 
to  walk,  it  chanced  to  be  close  to  the  statue,  and  tot- 
tering on  its  unsteady  feet,  stretched  out  its  tiny  hands 
and  caught  hold  of  the  foot  of  the  statue.  The  Wuzeer 
instantly  came  back  to  life,  and  stooping  down  seized 
the  little  baby  who  had  rescued  him  in  his  arms,  and 
kissed  it.  It  is  impossible  to  describe  the  delight  of 
Rama  Rajah  and  his  wife  at  regaining  their  long-lost 
friend.  The  old  Rajah  and  Ranee  rejoiced  also,  with 
the  Wuzeer  (Luxman  Wuzeer's  father),  and  his  mo- 
ther. 

Then  Chandra  Rajah  said  to  the  Wuzeer :  "  Here  is 
my  boy  happy  with  his  wife  and  child,  while  your  son 
has  neither ;  go  fetch  him  a  wife,  and  we  will  have  a 
right  merry  wedding." 

So  the  Wuzeer  of  the  Rajah  fetched  for  his  son 
a  kind  and  beautiful  wife,  and  Chandra  Rajah  and 
Rama  Rajah  caused  the  wedding  of  Luxman  to  be 


its 


Old  Deccan  Days. 


grander  than  that  of  any  great  Rajah  before  or  since, 
even  as  if  he  had  been  a  son  of  the  royal  house  ;  and 
they  all  lived  very  happy  ever  after,  as  all  good 
fathers,  and  mothers,  and  husbands,  and  wives,  and 
children  do. 


VI. 
LITTLE    SURYA    BAI. 

A  POOR  Milkwoman  was  once  going  into  the  town 
with  cans  full  of  milk  to  sell.  She  took  with  her 
her  little  daughter  (a  baby  of  about  a  year  old),  having 
no  one  in  whose  charge  to  leave  her  at  home.  Being 
tired,  she  sat  down  by  the  road-side,  placing  the  child 
and  the  cans  full  of  milk  beside  her ;  when,  on  a  sud- 
den, two  large  eagles  flew  over-head ;  and  one,  swoop- 
ing down,  seized  the  child,  and  flew  away  with  her  out 
of  the  mother's  sight. 

Very  far,  far  away  the  eagles  carried  the  little  baby, 
even  beyond  the  borders  of  her  native  land,  until  they 
reached  their  home  in  a  lofty  tree.  There  the  old 
eagles  had  built  a  great  nest ;  it  was  made  of  iron  and 
wood,  and  was  as  big  as  a  little  house ;  there  was  iron 
all  round,  and  to  get  in  and  out  you  had  to  go  through 
seven  iron  doors. 

In  this  stronghold  they  placed  the  little  baby,  and 
because  she  was  like  a  young  eaglet  they  called  her 
Surya  Bai  (the  Sun  Lady).  The  eagles  both  loved 
the  child  ;  and  daily  they  flew  into  distant  countries  to 
bring  her  rich  and  precious  things — clothes  that  had 
been  made  for  princesses,  precious  jewels,  wonderful 
playthings,  all  that  was  most  costly  and  rare. 

One  day,  when  Surya  Bai  was  twelve  years  old,  the 
10  *  113 


114  Old  Deccan  Days. 

old  husband  Eagle  said  to  his  wife,  "  Wife,  our  daugh- 
ter has  no  diamond  ring  on  her  little  finger,  such  as 
princesses  wear  ;  let  us  go  and  fetch  her  one."  "  Yes," 
said  the  other  old  Eagle ;  "  but  to  fetch  it  we  must  go 
very  far."  "  True,"  rejoined  he,  "  such  a  ring  is  not  to 
be  got  nearer  than  the  Red  Sea,  and  that  is  a  twelve- 
month's journey  from  here  ;  nevertheless  we  will  go." 
So  the  Eagles  started  off,  leaving  Surya  Bai  in  the 
strong  nest,  with  twelve  months'  provisions  (that  she 
might  not  be  hungry  whilst  they  were  away),  and  a 
little  dog  and  cat  to  take  care  of  her. 

Not  long  after  they  were  gone,  one  day  the  naughty 
little  cat  stole  some  food  from  the  store,  for  doing 
which  Surya  Bai  punished  her.  The  cat  did  not  like 
being  whipped,  and  she  was  still  more  annoyed  at 
having  been  caught  stealing ;  so,  in  revenge,  she  ran  to 
the  fireplace  (they  were  obliged  to  keep  a  fire  always 
burning  in  the  Eagle's  nest,  as  Surya  Bai  never  went 
down  from  the  tree,  and  would  not  otherwise  have 
been  able  to  cook  her  dinner),  and  put  out  the  fire. 
When  the  little  girl  saw  this  she  was  much  vexed,  for 
the  cat  had  eaten  their  last  cooked  provisions,  and  she 
did  not  know  what  they  were  to  do  for  food.  For 
three  whole  days  Surya  Bai  puzzled  over  the  difficulty, 
and  for  three  whole  days  she  and  the  dog  and  the  cat 
had  nothing  to  eat.  At  last  she  thought  she  would 
climb  to  the  edge  of  the  nest,  and  see  if  she  could  see 
any  fire  in  the  country  below ;  and,  if  so,  she  would  go 
down  and  ask  the  people  who  lighted  it  to  give  her  a 
little  with  which  to  cook  her  dinner.  So  she  climbed 
to  the  edge  of  the  nest.  Then,  very  far  away  on  the 
horizon,  she  saw  a  thin  curl  of  blue  smoke.  So  she  let 
herself  down  from  the  tree,  and  all  day  long  she  walked 


Little  Surya  Bat.  115 

in  the  direction  whence  the  smoke  came.  Toward 
evening  she  reached  the  place,  and  found  it  rose  from 
a  small  hut  in  which  sat  an  old  woman  warming  her 
hands  over  a  fire.  Now,  though  Surya  Bai  did  not 
know  it,  she  had  reached  the  Rakshas'  country,  md 
this  old  woman  was  none  other  than  a  wicked  old 
Rakshas,  who  lived  with  her  son  in  the  little  hut.  The 
young  Rakshas,  however,  had  gone  out  for  the  day. 
When  the  old  Rakshas  saw  Surya  Bai,  she  was  much 
astonished,  for  the  girl  was  beautiful  as  the  sun,  and 
her  rich  dress  was  resplendent  with  jewels ;  and  she 
said  to  herself,  "  How  lovely  this  child  is ;  what  a 
dainty  morsel  she  would  be  !  Oh,  if  my  son  were  only 
here  we  would  kill  her,  and  boil  her,  and  eat  her.  I 
will  try  and  detain  her  till  his  return."  Then,  turning 
to  Surya  Bai,  she  said,  "  Who  are  you,  and  what  do 
you  want?"  Surya  Bai  answered,  "  I  am  the  daughter 
of  the  great  Eagles,  but  they  have  gone  a  far  journey, 
to  fetch  me  a  diamond  ring,  and  the  fire  has  died  out 
in  the  nest.  Give  me,  I  pray  you,  a  little  from  your 
hearth."  The  Rakshas  replied,  "  You  shall  certainly 
have  some,  only  first  pound  this  rice  for  me,  for  I  am 
old,  and  have  no  daughter  to  help  me."  Then  Surya 
Bai  pounded  the  rice,  but  the  young  Rakshas  had  not 
returned  by  the  time  she  had  finished ;  so  the  old  Rak- 
shas said  to  her,  "  If  you  are  kind,  grind  this  corn  for 
me,  for  it  is  hard  work  for  my  old  hands."  Then  she 
ground  the  corn,  but  still  the  young  Rahshas  came  not ; 
and  the  old  Rakshas  said  to  her,  "  Sweep  the  house  for 
me  first,  and  then  I  will  give  you  the  fire."  So  Surya 
Bai  swept  the  house  ;  but  still  the  young  Rakshas  did 
not  come. 

Then  his  mother  said  to  Surya  Bai,  "  Why  should 


Ii6  Old  Deccan  Days. 

you  be  in  such  a  hurry  to  go  home?  fetch  me  some 
water  from  the  well,  and  then  you  shall  have  the  fire." 
And  she  fetched  the  water.  When  she  had  done  so, 
Surya  Bai  said,  "  I  have  done  all  your  bidding,  now 
give  me  the  fire,  or  I  will  go  elsewhere  and  seek  it." 

The  old  Rakshas  was  grieved  because  her  son  had 
not  returned  home  ;  but  she  saw  she  could  detain  Surya 
Bai  no  longer,  so  she  said,  "  Take  the  fire  and  go  in 
peace ;  take  also  some  parched  corn,  and  scatter  it 
along  the  road  as  you  go,  so  as  to  make  a  pretty  little 
pathway  from  our  house  to  yours," — and  so  saying,  she 
gave  Surya  Bai  several  handsful  of  parched  corn.  The 
girl  took  them,  fearing  no  evil,  and  as  she  went  she 
scattered  the  grains  on  the  road.  Then  she  climbed 
back  into  the  nest  and  shut  the  seven  iron  doors,  and 
lighted  the  fire,  and  cooked  the  food,  and  gave  the  dog 
and  the  cat  some  dinner,  and  took  some  herself,  and 
went  to  sleep. 

No  sooner  had  Surya  Bai  left  the  Rakshas'  hut,  than 
the  young  Rakshas  returned,  and  his  mother  said  to 
him,  "  Alas,  alas,  my  son,  why  did  not  you  come 
sooner?  Such  a  sweet  little  lamb  has  been  here,  and 
now  we  have  lost  her."  Then  she  told  him  all  about 
Surya  Bai.  "Which  way  did  she  go?"  asked  the 
young  Rakshas ;  "  only  tell  me  that,  and  I'll  have  her 
before  morning," 

His  mother  told  him  how  she  had  given  Surya  Bat 
the  parched  corn  to  scatter  on  the  road  ;  and  when  he 
heard  that,  he  followed  up  the  track,  and  ran,  and  ran, 
and  ran,  till  he  came  to  the  foot  of  the  tree. 

There,  looking  up,  he  saw  the  nest  high  in  the 
branches  above  them. 

Quick  as  thought,  up  he  climbed,  and  reached  the 


Little  Surya  Bat.  117 

great  outer  door ;  and  he  shook  it,  and  shook  it,  but 
he  could  not  get  in,  for  Surya  Bai  had  bolted  it.  Then 
he  said,  "  Let  me  in,  my  child,  let  me  in ;  I'm  the 
great  Eagle,  and  I  have  come  from  very  far,  and 
brought  you  many  beautiful  jewels ;  and  here  is  a 
splendid  diamond  ring  to  fit  your  little  finger."  But 
Surya  Bai  did  not  hear  him — she  was  fast  asleep. 

He  next  tried  to  force  open  the  door  again,  but  it  was 
too  strong  for  him.  In  his  efforts,  however,  he  had 
broken  off  one  of  his  finger  nails  (now  the  nail  of  a 
Rakshas  is  most  poisonous),  which  he  left  sticking  in 
the  crack  of  the  door  when  he  went  away. 

Next  morning  Surya  Bai  opened  all  the  doors,  in  order 
to  look  down  on  the  world  below ;  but  when  she  came  to 
the  seventh  door  a  sharp  thing,  which  was  sticking  in  it, 
ran  into  her  hand,  and  immediately  she  fell  down  dead. 

At  that  same  moment  the  two  poor  old  Eagles  re- 
turned from  their  long  twelvemonth's  journey,  bringing 
a  beautiful  diamond  ring,  which  they  had  fetched  for 
their  little  favorite  from  the  Red  Sea. 

There  she  lay  on  the  threshold  of  the  nest,  beautiful 
as  ever,  but  cold  and  dead. 

The  Eagles  could  not  bear  the  sight ;  so  they  placed 
the  ring  on  her  finger,  and  then,  with  loud  cries,  flew 
off  to  return  no  more. 

But  a  little  while  after  there  chanced  to  come  by  a 
great  Rajah,  who  was  out  on  a  hunting  expedition.  He 
came  with  hawks,  and  hounds,  and  attendants,  and 
horses,  and  pitched  his  camp  under  the  tree  in  which 
the  Eagles'  nest  was  built.  Then  looking  up,  he  saw, 
amongst  the  topmost  branches,  what  appeared  like  a 
queer  little  house  ;  and  he  sent  some  of  his  attendants 
to  see  what  it  was.  They  soon  returned,  and  told  the 


Ii8  Old  Deccan  Days. 

Rajah  that  up  in  the  tree  was  a  curious  thing  likr  a 
cage,  having  seven  iron  doors,  and  that  on  the  threshold 
of  the  first  door  lay  a  fair  maiden,  richly  dressed ;  that 
she  was  dead,  and  that  beside  her  stood  a  little  dog  and 
a  little  cat. 

At  this  the  Rajah  commanded  that  they  should  be 
fetched  down,  and  when  he  saw  Surya  Bai  he  felt  very 
sad  to  think  that  she  was  dead.  And  he  took  her  hand 
to  feel  if  it  were  already  stiff;  but  all  her  limbs  were 
supple,  nor  had  she  become  cold,  as  the  dead  are  cold  ; 
and,  looking  again  at  her  hand,  the  Rajah  saw  that  a 
sharp  thing,  like  a  long  thorn,  had  run  into  the  tender 
palm,  almost  far  enough  to  pierce  through  to  the  back 
of  her  hand. 

He  pulled  it  out,  and  no  sooner  had  he  done  so  than 
Surya  Bai  opened  her  eyes,  and  stood  up,  crying, 
"Where  am  I?  and  who  are  you?  Is  it  a  dream,  or 
true?" 

The  Rajah  answered,  "  It  is  all  true,  beautiful  lady. 
I  am  the  Rajah  of  a  neighboring  land ;  pray  tell  me 
who  are  you ;" 

She  replied,  "I  am  the  Eagles'  child."  But  he 
laughed.  "  Nay,"  he  said,  "  that  cannot  be  ;  you  are 
some  great  Princess."  "  No,"  she  answered,  "  I  am  no 
royal  lady ;  what  I  say  is  true.  I  have  lived  all  my  life 
in  this  tree.  I  am  only  the  Eagles'  child." 

Then  the  Rajah  said,  "  If  you  are  not  a  Princess  born. 
I  will  make  you  one,  say  only  you  will  be  my  Queen." 

Surya  Bai  consented,  and  the  Rajah  took  her  to  his 
kingdom  and  made   her  his  Queen.     But  Surya  Bai 
was  not  his  only  wife,  and  the  first  Ranee,  bis  other 
wife,  was  both  envious  and  jealous  of  her.* 
*  See  Note*  at  the  end. 


Little  Surya  Bat.  119 

The  Rajah  gave  Surya  Bai  many  trustworthy  atten- 
dants to  guard  her  and  be  with  her  ;  and  one  old  woman 
loved  Surya  Bai  more  than  all  the  rest,  and  used  to  say 
to  her,  "  Don't  be  too  intimate  with  the  first  Ranee, 
dear  lady,  for  she  wishes  you  no  good,  and  she  has 
power  to  do  you  harm.  Some  day  she  may  poison  or 
otherwise  injure  you ;"  but  Surya  Bai  would  answer 
her,  "Nonsense!  what  is  there  to  be  alarmed  about? 
Why  cannot  we  both  live  happily  together  like  two  sis- 
ters?" Then  the  old  woman  would  rejoin,  "Ah,  deat 
lady,  may  you  never  live  to  rue  your  confidence !  I 
pray  my  fears  may  prove  folly."  So  Surya  Bai  went 
often  to  see  the  first  Ranee,  and  the  first  Ranee  also 
came  often  to  see  her. 

One  day  they  were  standing  in  the  palace  court-yard, 
near  a  tank,  where  the  Rajah's  people  used  to  bathe, 
and  the  first  Ranee  said  to  Surya  Bai,  "What  pretty 
jewels  you  have,  sister !  let  me  try  them  on  for  a  minute, 
and  see  how  I  look  in  them." 

The  old  woman  was  standing  beside  Surya  Bai,  and 
she  whispered  to  her,  "  Do  not  lend  her  your  jewels." 
"  Hush,  you  silly  old  woman,"  answered  she.  "  What 
harm  will  it  do  ?"  and  she  gave  the  Ranee  her  jewels. 
Then  the  Ranee  said,  "  How  pretty  all  your  things  are  ! 
Do  you  not  think  they  look  well  even  on  me  ?  Let  us 
come  down  to  the  tank ;  it  is  as  clear  as  glass,  and  we 
can  see  ourselves  reflected  in  it,  and  how  these  jewels 
will  shine  in  the  clear  water !" 

The  old  woman,  hearing  this,  was  much  alarmed, 
and  begged  Surya  Bai  not  to  venture  near  the  tank,  but 
she  said,  "  I  bid  you  be  silent ;  I  will  not  distrust  my  sis- 
ter." and  she  went  down  to  the  tank.  Then,  when  no 
one  was  near,  and  they  were  both  leaning  over,  looking 


I  JO  Old  Deccan  Days. 

at  their  reflections  in  the  water,  the  first  Ranee  pushed 
Surya  Bai  into  the  tank,  who,  sinking  under  water,  was 
drowned  ;  and  from  the  place  where  her  body  fell  there 
sprang  up  a  bright  golden  sunflower. 

The  Rajah  shortly  afterward  inquired  where  Surya 
Bai  was,  but  nowhere  could  she  be  found.  Then, 
very  angry,  he  came  to  the  first  Ranee  and  said,  "  Tell 
me  where  the  child  is?  You  have  made  away  with 
her."  But  she  answered,  "  You  do  me  wrong ;  I  know 
nothing  of  her.  Doubtless  that  old  woman,  whom  you 
allowed  to  be  always  with  her,  has  done  her  some 
harm."  So  the  Rajah  ordered  the  poor  old  woman  to 
be  thrown  into  prison. 

He  tried  to  forget  Surya  Bai  and  all  her  pretty  ways, 
but  it  was  no  good.  Wherever  he  went  he  saw  her 
face.  Whatever  he  heard,  he  still  listened  for  her  voice. 
Every  day  he  grew  more  miserable  ;  he  would  not  eat 
or  drink ;  and  as  for  the  other  Ranee,  he  could  not  bear 
to  speak  to  her.  All  his  people  said,  "  He  will  surely 
die." 

When  matters  were  in  this  state,  the  Rajah  one  day 
wandered  to  the  edge  of  the  tank,  and  bending  over  the 
parapet,  looked  into  the  water.  Then  he  was  surprised 
to  see,  growing  out  of  the  tank  close  beside  him,  a 
stately  golden  flower ;  and  as  he  watched  it,  the  sun- 
flower gently  bent  its  head  and  leaned  down  toward 
him.  The  Rajah's  heart  was  softened,  and  he  kissed 
its  leaves  and  murmured,  "  This  flower  reminds  me  of 
my  lost  wife.  I  love  it,  it  is  fair  and  gentle  as  she  used 
to  be."  And  every  day  he  would  go  down  to  the  tank  ; 
and  sit  and  watch  the  flower.  When  the  Ranee  heard 
this,  she  ordered  her  servants  to  go  and  dig  the  sun- 
flower ip,  and  to  take  it  far  into  the  jungle  and  burn  it 


Little  Surya  Bat.  iai 

Next  time  the  Rajah  went  to  the  tank  he  found  hi« 
flower  gone,  and  he  was  much  grieved,  but  none  dare 
say  who  had  done  it. 

Then,  in  the  jungle,  from  the  place  where  the  ashes 
of  the  sunflower  had  been  thrown,  there  sprang  up  a 
young  mango  tree,  tall  and  straight,  that  grew  so 
quickly,  and  became  such  a  beautiful  tree,  that  it  was 
the  wonder  of  all  the  country  round.  At  last,  on  its 
topmost  bough,  came  one  fair  blossom ;  and  the  blos- 
som fell,  and  the  little  mango  grew  rosier  and  rosier, 
and  larger  and  larger,  till  so  wonderful  was  it  both  for 
size  and  shape  that  people  flocked  from  far  and  near 
only  to  look  at  it. 

But  none  ventured  to  gather  it,  for  it  was  to  be  kept 
for  the  Rajah  himself. 

Now  one  day,  the  poor  Milkwoman,  Surya  Bai's 
mother,  was  returning  homeward  after  her  day's  work 
with  the  empty  milk  cans,  and  being  very  tired  with 
her  long  walk  to  the  bazaar,  she  lay  down  under  the 
mango  tree  and  fell  asleep.  Then,  right  into  her 
largest  milk  can,  fell  the  wonderful  mango !  When 
the  poor  woman  awoke  and  saw  what  had  happened, 
she  was  dreadfully  frightened,  and  thought  to  herself, 
"  If  any  one  sees  me  with  this  wonderful  fruit,  that  all 
the  Rajah's  great  people  have  been  watching  for  so 
many,  many  weeks,  they  will  never  believe  that  I  did 
not  steal  it,  and  I  shall  be  put  in  prison,  Yet  it  is  no 
good  leaving  it  here  ;  besides,  it  fell  off  of  itself  into  my 
milk  can.  I  will  therefore  take  it  home  as  secretly  as 
possible,  and  share  it  with  my  children." 

So  the  Milkwoman  covered  up  the  can  in  which  the 
mango  was,  and  took  it  quickly  to  her  home,  where 
she  placed  it  in  the  corner  of  the  room,  and  put  over  it 
U 


1 23  Old  Deccan  Days. 

a  dozen  other  milk  cans,  piled  one  above  another. 
Then,  as  soon  as  it  was  dark,  she  called  her  husband 
and  eldest  son  (for  she  had  six  or  seven  children),  and 
said  to  them,  "  What  good  fortune  do  you  think  has 
befallen  me  to-day?" 

"  We  cannot  guess,"  they  said.  "  Nothing  less," 
she  went  on,  "  than  the  wonderful,  wonderful  mango 
falling  into  one  of  my  milk  cans  while  I  slept !  I  have 
brought  it  home  with  me  ;  it  is  in  that  lowest  can.  Go, 
husband,  call  all  the  children  to  have  a  slice ;  and  you, 
my  son,  take  down  that  pile  of  cans  and  fetch  me  the 
mango."  "  Mother,"  he  said,  when  he  got  to  the 
lowest  can,  "  you  were  joking,  I  suppose,  when  you 
told  us  there  was  a  mango  here." 

"  No,  not  at  all,"  she  answered  ;  "  there  is  a  mango 
there.  I  put  it  there  myself  an  hour  ago." 

"  Well,  there's  something  quite  different  now,"  re- 
plied the  son.  "  Come  and  see." 

The  Milkwoman  ran  to  the  place,  and  there,  in  the 
lowest  can,  she  saw,  not  the  mango,  but  a  little  tiny 
wee  lady,  richly  dressed  in  red  and  gold,  and  no  big- 
ger than  a  mango !  On  her  head  shone  a  bright  jewel 
like  a  little  sun. 

"This  is  very  odd,"  said  the  mother.  "I  nevei 
heard  of  such  a  thing  in  my  life !  But  since  she  has 
been  sent  to  us,  I  will  take  care  of  her,  as  if  she  were 
my  own  child." 

Every  day  the  little  lady  grew  taller  and  taller,  until 
she  was  the  size  of  an  ordinary  woman  ;  she  was  gen 
tie  and  lovable,  but  always  sad  and  quiet,  and  she 
said  her  name  was  "  Surya  Bai." 

The  children  were  all  very  curious  to  know  her  his- 
tory, but  the  Milkwoman  and  her  husband  would  not 


Little  Surya  Bai.  123 

let  her  be  teased  to  tell  who  she  was,  and  said  to  the 
children,  "  Let  us  wait.  By  and  by,  when  she  knows 
us  better,  she  will  most  likely  tell  us  her  story  of  her 
own  accord." 

Now  it  came  to  pass  that  once,  when  Surya  Bai  was 
taking  water  from  the  well  for  the  old  Milkwoman,  the 
Rajah  rode  by,  and  as  he  saw  her  walking  along,  he 
cried,  "  That  is  my  wife,"  and  rode  after  her  as  fast  as 
possible.  Surya  Bai  hearing  a  great  clatter  of  horses' 
hoofs,  was  frightened,  and  ran  home  as  fast  as  possible, 
and  hid  herself ;  and  when  the  Rajah  reached  the  place 
there  was  only  the  old  Milkwoman  to  be  seen  standing 
at  the  door  of  her  hut. 

Then  the  Rajah  said  to  her,  "Give  her  up,  old 
woman,  you  have  no  right  to  keep  her ;  she  is  mine, 
she  is  mine !"  But  the  old  woman  answered,  "  Are 
you  mad  ?  I  don't  know  what  you  mean." 

The  Rajah  replied,  "  Do  not  attempt  to  deceive  me. 
I  saw  my  wife  go  in  at  your  door ;  she  must  be  in  the 
house." 

"  Your  wife  ?"  screamed  the  old  woman — "  youi 
wife?  you  mean  my  daughter,  who  lately  returned 
from  the  well !  Do  you  think  I  am  going  to  give  my 
child  up  at  your  command?  You  are  Rajah  in  your 
palace,  but  I  am  Rajah  in  my  own  house  ;  and  I  won't 
give  up  my  little  daughter  for  any  bidding  of  yours. 
Be  off  with  you,  or  I'll  pull  out  your  beard."  And 
so  saying,  she  seized  a  long  stick  and  attacked  the 
Rajah,  calling  out  loudly  to  her  husband  and  sons, 
who  came  running  to  her  aid. 

The  Rajah,  seeing  matters  were  against  him,  and 
having  outridden  his  attendants  (and  not  being  quite 
certain  moreover  whether  he  had  seen  Surya  Bai,  or 


124  0^*  Deccan  Days. 

whether  she  might  not  have  been  really  the  poor  Milk- 
woman's  daughter),  rode  off  and  returned  to  his 
palace. 

However,  he  determined  to  sift  the  matter.  As  a 
first  step  he  went  to  see  Surya  Bai's  old  attendant,  who 
was  still  in  prison.  From  her  he  learnt  enough  to  make 
him  believe  she  was  not  only  entirely  innocent  of 
Surya  Bai's  death,  but  gravely  to  suspect  the  first 
Ranee  of  having  caused  it.  He  therefore  ordered  the 
old  woman  to  be  set  at  liberty,  still  keeping  a  watch- 
ful eye  on  her,  and  bade  her  prove  her  devotion  to  her 
long-lost  mistress  by  going  to  the  Milkwoman's  house, 
and  bringing  him  as  much  information  as  possible 
about  the  family,  and  more  particularly  about  the  girl 
he  had  seen  returning  from  the  well. 

So  the  attendant  went  to  the  Milkwoman's  house, 
and  made  friends  with  her,  and  bought  some  milk,  and 
afterward  she  stayed  and  talked  to  her. 

After  a  few  days  the  Milkwoman  ceased  to  be  sus- 
picious of  her,  and  became  quite  cordial. 

Surya  Bai's  attendant  then  told  how  she  had  been 
the  late  Ranee's  waiting-woman,  and  how  the  Rajah 
had  thrown  her  into  prison  on  her  mistress's  death  ;  in 
return  for  which  intelligence  the  old  Milkwoman  im- 
parted to  her  how  the  wonderful  mango  had  tumbled 
into  her  can  as  she  slept  under  the  tree,  and  how  it 
had  miraculously  changed  in  the  course  of  an  hour 
into  a  beautiful  little  lady.  "  I  wonder  why  she  should 
have  chosen  my  poor  house  to  live  in,  instead  of  any 
one  else's,"  said  the  old  woman. 

Then  Surya  Bai's  attendant  said,  "  Have  you  ever 
asked  her  her  history?  Perhaps  she  would  not  mind 
telling  it  to  you  now." 


Little  Surya  Ba^.  135 

So  the  Milkwoman  called  the  girl,  and  as  soon  as 
the  old  attendant  saw  her,  she  knew  it  was  none  other 
than  Surya  Bai,  and  her  heart  jumped  for  joy ;  but  she 
remained  silent,  wondering  much,  for  she  knew  her 
mistress  had  been  drowned  in  the  tank. 

The  old  Milkwoman  turned  to  Surya  Bai  and  said, 
"  My  child,  you  have  lived  long  with  us,  and  been  a 
good  daughter  to  me ;  but  I  have  never  asked  you  your 
history,  because  I  thought  it  must  be  a  sad  one ;  but 
if  you  do  not  fear  to  tell  it  to  me  now,  I  should  like  to 
hear  it." 

Surya  Bai  answered,  "  Mother,  you  speak  true  ;  my 
story  is  sad.  I  believe  my  real  mother  was  a  poor 
Milkwoman  like  you,  and  that  she  took  me  with  her 
one  day  when  I  was  quite  a  little  baby,  as  she  was 
going  to  sell  milk  in  the  bazaar.  But  being  tired  with 
the  long  walk,  she  sat  down  to  rest,  and  placed  me 
also  on  the  ground,  when  suddenly  a  great  Eagle  flew 
down  and  carried  me  away.  But  all  the  fathet  and 
mother  I  ever  knew  were  the  two  great  Eagles." 

"  Ah,  my  child  !  my  child  !"  cried  the  Milkwoman, 
"  I  was  that  poor  woman  ;  the  Eagles  flew  away  with 
my  eldest  girl  when  she  was  only  a  year  old.  Have  I 
found  you  after  these  many  years  ?" 

And  she  ran  and  called  all  her  children,  and  her 
husband,  to  tell  them  the  wonderful  news. 

Then  was  there  great  rejoicing  among  them  all. 

When  they  were  a  little  calmer,  her  mother  said  to 
Surya  Bai,  "  Tell  us,  dear  daughter,  how  your  life  has 
been  spent  since  first  we  lost  you."  And  Surya  Bai 
went  on : 

"  The  old  Eagles  took  me  away  to  their  home,  and 
there  I  lived  happily  many  years.  They  loved  to  bring 
11  • 


ia6  Old  Deccan  Days. 

me  all  the  beautiful  things  they  could  find,  and  at  last 
one  day  they  both  went  to  fetch  me  a  diamond  ring 
from  the  Red  Sea ;  but  while  they  were  gone  the  fire 
went  out  in  the  nest :  so  I  went  to  an  old  woman's  hut, 
and  got  her  to  give  me  some  fire ;  and  next  day  (I 
don't  know  how  it  was),  as  I  was  opening  the  outer 
door  of  the  cage,  a  sharp  thing,  that  was  sticking  in  it, 
ran  into  my  hand  and  I  fell  down  senseless. 

"  I  don't  know  how  long  I  lay  there,  but  when  I 
came  to  myself,  I  found  the  Eagles  must  have  come 
back,  and  thought  me  dead,  and  gone  away,  for  the 
diamond  ring  was  on  my  little  finger ;  a  great  many 
people  were  watching  over  me,  and  amongst  them  was 
a  Rajah,  who  asked  me  to  go  home  with  him  and  be 
his  wife,  and  he  brought  me  to  this  place,  and  I  was 
his  Ranee. 

"  But  his  other  wife,  the  first  Ranee,  hated  me  (for 
she  was  jealous),  and  desired  to  kill  me;  and  one  day 
she  accomplished  her  purpose  by  pushing  me  into  the 
tank,  for  I  was  young  and  foolish,  and  disregarded  the 
warnings  of  my  faithful  old  attendant,  who  begged  me 
not  to  go  near  the  place.  Ah  !  if  I  had  only  listened 
to  her  words  I  might  have  been  happy  still." 

At  these  words  the  old  attendant,  who  had  been  sit- 
ting in  the  back  ground,  rushed  forward  and  kissed 
Surya  Bai's  feet,  crying,  "  Ah,  my  lady !  my  lady ! 
have  I  found  you  at  last !"  and,  without  staying  to  hear 
more,  she  ran  back  to  the  palace  to  tell  the  Rajah  the 
glad  news. 

Then  Surya  Bai  told  her  parents  how  she  had  not 
wholly  died  in  the  tank,  but  became  a  sunflower ;  and 
how  the  first  Ranee,  seeing  how  fond  the  Rajah  was 
of  the  plant,  had  caused  it  to  be  thrown  away ;  and 


Little  Surya  Bat.  127 

then  how  she  had  risen  from  the  ashes  of  the  sunflower, 
in  the  form  of  a  mango  tree ;  and  how  when  the  tree 
blossomed  all  her  spirit  went  into  the  little  mango 
flower,  and  she  ended  by  saying :  "  And  when  th*» 
flower  became  fruit,  I  know  not  by  what  irresistible 
impulse  I  was  induced  to  throw  myself  into  your  milk 
can.  Mother,  it  was  my  destiny,  and  as  soon  as  you 
took  me  into  your  house,  I  began  to  recover  my  human 
form." 

"  Why,  then,"  asked  her  brothers  and  sisters,  "  why 
do  you  not  tell  the  Rajah  that  you  are  living,  and  that 
you  are  the  Ranee  Surya  Bai  ?" 

"  Alas,"  she  answered,  "  I  could  not  do  that.  Who 
knows  but  that  he  may  be  influenced  by  the  first  Ranee, 
and  also  desire  my  death.  Let  me  rather  be  poor  like 
you,  but  safe  from  danger." 

Then  her  mother  cried,  "  Oh,  what  a  stupid  woman 
I  am  !  The  Rajah  one  day  came  seeking  you  here,  but 
I  and  your  father  and  brothers  drove  him  away,  for  we 
did  -not  know  you  were  indeed  the  lost  Ranee." 

As  she  spoke  these  words  a  sound  of  horses'  hoofs 
was  heard  in  the  distance,  and  the  Rajah  himself  ap- 
peared, having  heard  the  good  news  of  Surya  Bai's 
being  alive  from  her  old  attendant. 

It  is  impossible  to  tell  the  joy  of  the  Rajah  at  finding 
his  long-lost  wife,  but  it  was  not  greater  than  Surya 
Bai's  at  being  restored  to  her  husband. 

Then  the  Rajah  turned  to  the  old  Milkwoman  and 
said,  "  Old  woman,  you  did  not  tell  me  true,  for  it  was 
indeed  my  wife  who  was  in  your  hut."  "  Yes,  Pro- 
tector of  the  Poor,"  answered  the  old  Milkwoman, 
"  but  it  was  also  my  daughter."  Then  they  told  him 
how  Surya  Bai  was  the  Milkwoman's  child. 


ia8  Old  Deccan  Days. 

At  hearing  this  the  Rajah  commanded  them  all  to 
return  with  him  to  the  palace.  He  gave  Surya  Bai's 
father  a  village,  and  ennobled  the  family ;  and  he  said 
to  Surya  Bai's  old  attendant,  "  For  the  good  service 
you  have  done  you  shall  be  palace  housekeeper,"  and 
he  gave  her  great  riches ;  adding,  "  I  can  never  repay 
the  debt  I  owe  you,  nor  make  you  sufficient  recom- 
pense for  having  caused  you  to  be  unjustly  cast  into 
prison."  But  she  replied,  "  Sire,  even  in  your  anger 
you  were  temperate ;  if  you  had  caused  me  to  be  put 
to  death,  as  some  would  have  done,  none  of  this  good 
might  have  come  upon  you  ;  it  is  yourself  you  have  to 
thank." 

The  wicked  first  Ranee  was  cast,  for  the  rest  of  hei 
life,  into  the  prison  in  which  the  old  attendant  had  been 
thrown  ;  but  Surya  Bai  lived  happily  with  her  husband 
the  rest  of  her  days  ;  and  in  memory  of  her  adventures, 
he  planted  round  their  palace  a  hedge  of  sunflower* 
and  a  grove  of  mango  trees. 


VII. 
THE  WANDERINGS  OF  VICRAM  MAHARAJAH. 

THERE  was  once  upon  a  time  a  Rajah  named 
Vicram  Maharajah,*  who  had  a  Wuzeer  named 
Butti.f  Both  the  Rajah  and  his  minister  were  left  or- 
phans when  very  young,  and  ever  since  their  parents' 
death  they  had  lived  together :  they  were  educated  to- 
gether, and  they  loved  each  other  tenderly — like  brothers. 

Both  were  good  and  kind — no  poor  man  coming  to 
the  Rajah  was  ever  known  to  have  been  sent  away  dis- 
appointed, for  it  was  his  delight  to  give  food  and  clothes 
to  those  in  need.  But  whilst  the  Wuzeer  had  much 
judgment  and  discretion,  as  well  as  a  brilliant  fancy,  the 
Rajah  was  too  apt  to  allow  his  imagination  to  run  away 
with  his  reason. 

Under  their  united  rule,  however,  the  kingdom  pros- 
pered greatly.  The  Rajah  was  the  spur  of  every  noble 
work,  and  the  Wuzeer  the  curb  to  every  rash  or  im- 
practicable project. 

In  a  country  some  way  from  Rajah  Vicram's  there 
lived  a  little  Queen,  called  Anar  Ranee  (the  Pome- 
granate Queen).  Her  father  and  mother  reigned  over 
the  Pomegranate  country,  and  for  her  they  had  made 
a  beautiful  garden.  In  the  middle  of  the  garden 
was  a  lovely  pomegranate  tree,  bearing  three  large 
*  The  great  King  Vicram.  f  Light. 

129 


130  Old  Deccan  Days. 

pomegranates.  They  opened  in  the  centre,  and  in  each 
was  a  little  bed.  In  one  of  them  Anar  Ranee  used  to 
sleep,  and  in  the  pomegranates  on  either  side  slept  two 
of  her  maids. 

Every  morning  early  the  pomegranate  tree  would 
gently  bend  its  branches  to  the  ground,  and  the  fruit 
would  open,  and  Anar  Ranee  and  her  attendants  creep 
out  to  play  under  the  shadow  of  the  cool  tree  until  the 
evening ;  and  each  evening  the  tree  again  bent  down  to 
enable  them  to  get  into  their  tiny,  snug  bed-rooms. 

Many  princes  wished  to  marry  Anar  Ranee,  for  she 
was  said  to  be  the  fairest  lady  upon  earth  :  her  hair  was 
black  as  a  raven's  wing,  her  eyes  like  the  eyes  of  a  ga- 
zelle, her  teeth  two  rows  of  exquisite  pearls,  and  her 
cheeks  the  color  of  the  rosy  pomegranate.  But  her 
father  and  mother  had  caused  her  garden  to  be  hedged 
around  with  seven  hedges  made  of  bayonets,  so  that 
none  could  go  in  or  out;  and  they  had  published  a 
decree  that  none  should  marry  her  but  he  who  could 
enter  the  garden  and  gather  the  three  pomegranates,  in 
which  she  and  her  two  maids  slept.  To  do  this,  kings, 
princes  and  nobles  innumerable  had  striven,  but  striven 
in  vain. 

Some  never  got  past  the  first  sharp  hedge  of  bayo- 
nets ;  others,  more  fortunate,  surmounted  the  second, 
the  third,  the  fourth,  the  fifth,  or  even  the  sixth ;  but 
there  perished  miserably,  being  unable  to  climb  the 
seventh.  None  had  ever  succeeded  in  entering  the 
garden. 

Before  Vicram  Maharajah's  father  and  mother  died, 
they  had  built,  some  way  from  their  palace,  a  very 
beautiful  temple.  It  was  of  marble,  and  in  the  centre 
stood  an  idol  made  of  pure  gold.  But  in  course  of  time 


The   Wanderings  of   Vicram  Maharajah.       131 

the  jungle  had  grown  up  round  it,  and  thick  straggling 
plants  of  prickly  pear  had  covered  it,  so  that  it  was  dif- 
ficult even  to  find  out  whereabouts  it  was. 

Then,  one  day,  the  Wuzeer  Butti  said  to  Vicram 
Maharajah,  "  The  temple  your  father  and  mother  built 
at  sc  uuch  pains  and  cost  is  almost  lost  in  the  jungle, 
and  will  probably  ere  long  be  in  ruins.  It  would  be  a 
pious  work  to  find  it  out  and  restore  it."  Vicram  Ma- 
harajah agreed,  and  immediately  sent  for  many  work- 
men, and  caused  the  jungle  to  be  cut  down  and  the 
I.emple  restored.  All  were  much  astonished  to  find 
what  a  beautiful  place  it  was !  The  floor  was  white 
marble,  the  walls  exquisitely  carved  in  bas-reliefs  and 
gorgeously  colored,  while  all  over  the  ceiling  was 
painted  Vicram  Maharajah's  father's  name,  and  in  the 
centre  was  a  golden  image  of  Gunputti,  to  whom  it  was 
dedicated. 

The  Rajah  Vicram  was  so  pleased  with  the  beauty 
of  the  place  that  on  that  account,  as  well  as  because  of 
its  sanctity,  he  and  Butti  used  to  go  and  sleep  there 
every  night. 

One  night  Vicram  had  a  wonderful  dream.  He 
dreamed  his  father  appeared  to  him  and  said,  "  Arise, 
Vicram,  go  to  the  tower  for  lights*  which  is  in  front 
of  this  temple. 

(For  there  was  in  front  of  the  temple  a  beautiiul  tower 
or  pyramid  for  lights,  and  all  the  way  up  it  were  pro- 
jections on  which  to  place  candles  on  days  dedicated  to 
the  idol ;  so  that  when  the  whole  was  lighted  it  looked 
like  a  gigantic  candlestick,  and  to  guard  it  there  were 
around  it  seven  hedges  made  of  bayonets.) 

"  Arise,  Vicram,  therefore,"  said  the  vision ;  "  go  to 
*  See  Notes  at  the  end. 


132  Old  Deccan  Days. 

the  tower  for  lights ;  below  it  is  a  vast  amount  of 
treasure,  but  you  can  only  get  it  in  one  way  without  in- 
curring the  anger  of  Gunputti.  You  must  first  do  in  his 
honor  an  act  of  very  great  devotion,  which  if  he  gra- 
ciously approve,  and  consent  to  preserve  your  life 
therein,  you  may  with  safety  remove  the  treasure." 

"And  what  is  this  act  of  devotion?"  asked  Vicram 
Maharajah. 

"  It  is  this,"  (he  thought  his  father  answered)  :  "  You 
must  fasten  a  rope  to  the  top  of  the  tower,  and  to  the 
other  end  of  the  rope  attach  a  basket,  into  which  you 
must  get  head  downward,  then  twist  the  rope  by  which 
the  basket  is  hung  three  times,  and  as  it  is  untwis- 
ting, cut  it,  when  you  will  fall  head  downward  to  the 
earth. 

"  If  you  fall  on  either  of  the  hedges  of  bayonets,  you 
will  be  instantly  killed  ;  but  Gunputti  is  merciful — do 
not  fear  that  he  will  allow  you  to  be  slain.  If  you  es- 
cape unhurt,  you  will  know  that  he  has  accepted  your 
pious  act,  and  may  without  danger  take  the  treasure."* 

The  vision  faded ;  Vicram  saw  no  more,  and  shortly 
afterward  he  awoke. 

Then,  turning  to  the  Wuzeer,  he  said,  "  Butti,  I  had 
a  strange  dream.  I  dreamed  my  father  counseled  me 
to  do  an  act  of  great  devotion  ;  nothing  less  than  fasten- 
ing a  basket  by  a  rope  to  the  top  of  the  tower  for  lights, 
and  getting  into  it  head  downward,  then  cutting  the 
rope  and  allowing  myself  to  fall ;  by  which  having  pro- 
pitiated the  divinity,  he  promised  me  a  vast  treasure,  to 
be  found  by  digging  under  the  tower !  What  dc  you 
think  I  had  better  do?" 

"My  advice,"  answered  the  Wuzeer,  "  is,  if  you  c»rr 
*  See  Notes  at  the  end. 


The  Wanderings  of  Vicram  Maharajah.       133 

to  seek  the  treasure,  to  do  entirely  as  your  father  com- 
manded, trusting  in  the  mercy  of  Gunputti." 

So  the  Rajah  caused  a  basket  to  be  fastened  by  a 
rope  to  the  top  of  the  tower,  and  got  into  it  head  down- 
ward ;  then  he  called  out  to  Butti,  "  How  can  I  cut 
the  rope?"  "  Nothing  is  easier,"  answered  he  ;  "  take 
this  sword  in  your  hand.  I  will  twist  the  rope  three 
times,  and  as  it  untwists  for  the  first  time  let  the  sword 
fall  upon  it."  Vicram  Maharajah  took  the  sword,  and 
Butti  twisted  the  rope,  and  as  it  first  began  to  untwist, 
the  Rajah  cut  it,  and  the  basket  immediately  fell.  It 
would  have  certainly  gone  down  among  the  bayonets, 
and  he  been  instantly  killed,  had  not  Gunputti,  seeing 
the  danger  of  his  devotee,  rushed  out  of  the  temple  at 
that  moment  in  the  form  of  an  old  woman,  who,  catch- 
ing the  basket  in  her  arms  before  it  touched  the  bayo- 
nets, brought  it  gently  and  safely  to  the  ground  ;  having 
done  which  she  instantly  returned  into  the  temple. 
None  of  the  spectators  knew  she  was  Gunputti  himself 
in  disguise ;  they  only  thought  "  What  a  clever  old 
woman !" 

Vicram  Maharajah  then  caused  excavations  to  be 
made  below  the  tower,  under  which  he  found  an  im- 
mense amount  of  treasure.  There  were  mountains  of 
gold,  there  were  diamonds,  and  rubies,  and  sapphires, 
and  emeralds,  and  turquoises,  and  pearls ;  but  he  took 
none  of  them,  causing  all  to  be  sold  and  the  money 
given  to  the  poor,  so  little  did  he  care  for  the  riches  for 
which  some  men  sell  their  bodies  and  souls. 

Another  day,  the  Rajah,  when  in  the  temple,  dreamed 
again.  Again  his  father  appeared  to  him,  and  this  time 
he  said,  "Vicram,  come  daily  to  this  temple  and  Gun- 
putti will  teach  you  wisdom,  and  you  shall  get  under- 
12 


134  ®ld  Deccan  Days. 

standing.  You  may  get  learning  in  the  world,  but 
wisdom  is  the  fruit  of  much  learning  and  much  experi- 
ence, and  much  love  to  God  and  man ;  wherefore^ 
come,  acquire  wisdom,  for  learning  perishes,  but  wis- 
dom never  dies."  When  the  Rajah  awoke,  he  told  his 
dream  to  the  Wuzeer,  and  Butti  recommended  him  to 
obey  his  father's  counsel,  which  he  accordingly  did. 

Daily  he  resorted  to  the  temple  and  was  instructed 
by  Gunputti ;  and  when  he  had  learnt  much,  one  day 
Gunputti  said  to  him,  "  I  have  given  you  as  much  wis- 
dom as  is  in  keeping  with  man's  finite  comprehension  ; 
now,  as  a  parting  gift,  ask  of  me  what  you  will  and  it 
shall  be  yours — or  riches,  or  power,  or  beauty,  or  long 
life,  or  health,  or  happiness — choose  what  you  will 
have?"  The  Rajah  was  very  much  puzzled,  and  he 
begged  leave  to  be  allowed  a  day  to  think  over  the 
matter,  and  decide  what  he  would  choose,  to  which 
Gunputti  assented. 

Now  it  happened  that  near  the  palace  there  lived  the 
son  of  a  Carpenter,  who  was  very  cunning,  and  when 
he  heard  that  the  Rajah  went  to  the  temple  to  learn 
wisdom,  he  also  determined  to  go  and  see  if  he  could 
not  learn  it  also ;  and  each  day,  when  Gunputti  gave 
Vicram  Maharajah  instruction,  the  Carpenter's  son 
would  hide  close  behind  the  temple,  and  overhear  all 
their  conversation  ;  so  that  he  also  became  very  wise. 
No  sooner,  therefore,  did  he  hear  Gunputti's  offer  to 
Vicram  than  he  determined  to  return  again  when  the 
Rajah  did,  and  find  out  in  what  way  he  was  to  procure 
the  promised  gift,  whatever  it  was. 

The  Rajah  consulted  Butti  as  to  what  he  should  ask 
for,  saying,  "  I  have  riches  more  than  enough  ;  I  have 
also  sufficient  uower,  and  for  the  rest  I  had  sooner 


TTte  Wanderings  of  Vicram  Maharajah.      135 

take  my  chance  with  other  men,  which  makes  me 
much  at  a  loss  to  know  what  to  choose." 

The  Wuzeer  answered,  "  Is  there  any  supernatural 
power  you  at  all  desire  to  possess  ?  If  so,  ask  for  that." 
"  Yes,"  replied  the  Rajah,  "  it  has  always  been  a  great 
desire  of  mine  to  have  power  to  leave  my  own  body 
when  I  will,  and  translate  my  soul  and  sense  into  some 
other  body,  either  of  man  or  animal.  I  would  rather 
be  able  to  do  that  than  anything  else."  "  Then,"  said 
the  Wuzeer,  "  ask  Gunputti  to  give  you  the  power." 

Next  morning  the  Rajah,  having  bathed  and  prayed, 
went  in  great  state  to  the  temple  to  have  his  final  inter- 
view with  the  idol.  And  the  Carpenter's  son  went  too, 
in  order  to  overhear  it. 

Then  Gunputti  said  to  the  Rajah,  "  Vicram,  what 
gift  do  you  choose  ?"  "  Oh,  divine  Power,"  answered 
the  Rajah,  "  you  have  already  given  me  a  sufficiency 
of  wealth  and  power,  in  making  me  Rajah ;  neither 
care  I  for  more  of  beauty  than  I  now  possess  ;  and  of 
long  life,  health  and  happiness  I  had  rather  take  my 
share  with  other  men.  But  there  is  a  power  which  I 
would  rather  own  than  all  that  you  have  offered." 

"Name  it,  O  good  son  of  a  good  father,"  said 
Gunputti. 

"  Most  Wise,"  replied  Vicram,  "  give  me  the  power 
to  leave  my  own  body  when  I  will,  and  translate  my 
soul,  and  sense,  and  thinking  powers  into  any  other 
body  that  I  may  choose,  either  of  man,  or  bird,  or 
beast — whether  for  a  day,  or  a  year,  or  for  twelve 
years,  or  as  long  as  I  like ;  grant  also,  that  however 
long  the  term  of  my  absence,  my  body  may  not  decay, 
but  that,  when  I  please  to  return  to  it  again,  I  may  find 
it  still  as  when  I  left  it." 


136  Old  Deccan  Days. 

"  Vicram,"  answered  Gunputti, 
heard,"  and  he  instructed  Vicram  Maharajah  by  what 
means  he  should  translate  his  soul  into  another  body, 
and  also  gave  him  something  which,  being  placed 
within  his  own  body  when  he  left  it,  would  preserve  it 
from  decay  until  his  return.* 

The  Carpenter's  son,  who  had  been  all  this  time 
listening  outside  the  temple,  heard  and  learnt  the  spell 
whereby  Gunputti  gave  Vicram  Maharajah  power  to 
enter  into  any  other  body  ;  but  he  could  not  see  nor  find 
out  what  was  given  to  the  Rajah  to  place  within  his 
own  body  when  he  left  it,  to  preserve  it ;  so  that  he 
was  only  master  of  half  the  secret. 

Vicram  Maharajah  returned  home,  and  told  the 
Wuzeer  that  he  was  possessed  of  the  much-desired 
secret.  "Then,"  said  Butti,  "the  best  use  you  can 
put  it  to  is  to  fly  to  the  Pomegranate  country,  and 
bring  Anar  Ranee  here." 

"  How  can  that  be  done  ?"  asked  the  Rajah.  "  Thus,'' 
replied  Butti ;  "  transport  yourself  into  the  body  of  a 
parrot,  in  which  shape  you  will  be  able  to  fly  over  the 
seven  hedges  of  bayonets  that  surround  her  garden. 
Go  to  the  tree  in  the  centre  of  it,  bite  off  the  stalks 
of  the  pomegranates  and  bring  them  home  in  your 
beak." 

"  Very  well,"  said  the  Rajah,  and  he  picked  up  a 
parrot  which  lay  dead  on  the  ground,  and  placing 
within  his  own  body  the  beauty-preserving  charm,  trans- 
ported his  soul  into  the  parrot,  and  flew  off. 

On,  on,  on  he  went,  over  the  hills  and  far  away,  un- 
til he  came  to  the  garden.    Then  he  flew  over  the  seven 
hedges  of  bayonets,  and  with  his  beak  broke  off  the 
*  See.  Notes  at  the  end. 


The    Wanderings  of  Vicram  Maharajah.      137 

three  pomegrantes  (in  which  were  Anar  Ranee  and  her 
two  ladies),  and  holding  them  by  the  stalks  brought 
them  safely  home.  He  then  immediately  left  the  par- 
rot's body  and  re-entered  his  own  body. 

When  Butti  saw  how  well  he  had  accomplished  the 
feat,  he  said,  "  Thank  heaven  !  there's  some  good  done 
already."  All  who  saw  Anar  Ranee  were  astonished 
at  her  beauty,  for  she  was  fair  as  a  lotus  flower,  and  the 
color  on  her  cheeks  was  like  the  deep  rich  color  of  a 
pomegranate,  and  all  thought  the  Rajah  very  wise  to 
have  chosen  such  a  wife. 

They  had  a  magnificent  wedding,  and  were  for  a 
short  time  as  happy  as  the  day  is  long. 

But  within  a  little  while  Vicram  Maharajah  said  to 
Butti,  "  I  have  again  a  great  desire  to  see  the  world." 
"  What !"  said  Butti,  "  so  soon  again  to  leave  your 
home  !  So  soon  to  care  to  go  away  from  your  young 
wife!" 

"  I  love  her  and  my  people  dearly,"  answered  the 
Rajah  ;  "but  I  cannot  but  feel  that  I  have  this  super- 
natural power  of  taking  any  form  I  please,  and  longing 
to  use  it."  "  Where  and  how  will  you  go?"  asked  the 
Wuzeer.  "  Let  it  be  the  day  after  to-morrow,"  an- 
swered Vicram  Maharajah.  "I  shall  again  take  the 
form  of  a  parrot,  and  see  as  much  of  the  world  as  pos- 
sible." 

So  it  was  settled  that  the  Rajah  should  go.  He  left 
his  kingdom  in  the  Wuzeer's  sole  charge,  and  also  his 
wife,  saying  to  her,  "  I  don't  know  for  how  long  I  may 
be  away  ;  perhaps  a  day,  perhaps  a  year,  perhaps  more. 
But  if,  while  I  am  gone,  you  should  be  in  any  difficulty, 
apply  to  the  Wuzeer.  He  has  ever  been  like  an  elder 
brother  or  a  father  to  me ;  do  you  therefore  also  regard 
12* 


138  Old  Deccan  Days. 

him  as  a  father.  I  have  charged  him  to  lake  care  of 
you  as  he  would  of  his  own  child." 

Having  said  these  words,  the  Rajah  caused  a  beauti- 
ful parrot  to  be  shot  (it  was  a  very  handsome  bird,  with 
a  tuft  of  bright  feathers  on  its  head  and  a  ring  about 
its  neck).  He  then  cut  a  small  incision  in  his  arm  and 
rubbed  into  it  some  of  the  magic  preservative  given 
him  by  Gunputti  to  keep  his  body  from  decaying,  and 
transporting  his  soul  into  the  parrot's  body,  he  flew 
away. 

No  sooner  did  the  Carpenter's  son  hear  that  the  Ra- 
jah was  as  dead,  than,  knowing  the  power  of  which 
Vicram  Maharajah  and  he  were  alike  possessed,  he  felt 
certain  that  the  former  had  made  use  of  it,  and  deter- 
mined himself  likewise  to  turn  it  to  account.  There- 
fore, directly  the  Rajah  entered  the  parrot's  body,  the 
Carpenter's  son  entered  the  Rajah's  body,  and  the  world 
at  large  imagined  that  the  Rajah  had  only  swooned 
and  recovered.  But  the  Wuzeer  was  wiser  than  they, 
and  immediately  thought  to  himself,  "  Some  one  beside 
Vicram  Maharajah  must  have  become  acquainted  with 
this  spell,  and  be  now  making  use  of  it,  thinking  it 
would  be  very  amusing  to  play  the  part  of  Rajah  for  a 
while  ;  but  I'll  soon  discover  if  this  be  the  case  or  no." 

So  he  called  Anar  Ranee  and  said  to  her,  "  You  are 
as  well  assured  as  I  am  that  your  husband  left  us  but 
now,  in  the  form  of  a  parrot ;  but  scarcely  had  he  gone 
before  his  deserted  body  arose,  and  he  now  appears 
walking  about,  and  talking,  and  as  much  alive  as  ever ; 
nevertheless,  my  opinion  is,  that  the  spirit  animating 
the  body  is  not  the  spirit  of  the  Rajah,  but  that  some 
one  else  is  possessed  of  the  power  given  to  him  by  Gun- 
putti, and  has  taken  advantage  of  it  to  personate  him. 


The  Wanderings  of  Vicram  Maharajah.      1^9 

But  this  it  would  be  better  to  put  to  the  proof.  Do, 
therefore,  as  I  tell  you,  that  you  may  be  assured  of  the 
truth  of  my  words.  Make  to-day  for  your  husband's 
dinner  some  very  coarse  and  common  currie,  and  give 
it  to  him.  If  he  complains  that  it  is  not  as  good  as 
usual,  I  am  making  a  mistake ;  but  if,  on  the  contrary, 
he  says  nothing  about  it,  you  will  know  that  my  words 
are  true,  and  that  he  is  not  Vicram  Maharajah." 

Anar  Ranee  did  as  the  Wuzeer  advised,  and  after- 
ward came  to  him  and  said,  "  Father"  (for  so  she 
always  called  him),  "  I  have  been  much  astonished  at 
the  result  of  the  trial.  I  made  the  currie  very  care- 
lessly, and  it  was  as  coarse  and  common  as  possible ; 
but  the  Rajah  did  not  even  complain.  I  feel  convinced 
it  is  as  you  say ;  but  what  can  we  do  ?" 

"  We  will  not,"  answered  the  Wuzeer,  "  cast  him 
into  prison,  since  he  inhabits  your  husband's  body  ;  but 
neither  you,  nor  any  of  the  Rajah's  relations,  must  have 
any  friendship  with,  or  so  much  as  speak  to  him  ;  and 
if  he  speak  to  any  of  you,  let  whoever  it  be,  imme- 
diately begin  to  quarrel  with  him,  whereby  he  will  find 
the  life  of  a  rajah  not  so  agreeable  as  he  anticipated, 
and  may  be  induced  the  sooner  to  return  to  his  proper 
form. 

Anar  Ranee  instructed  all  her  husband's  relations  and 
friends  as  Butti  had  advised,  and  the  Carpenter's  son  be- 
gan to  think  the  life  of  a  rajah  not  at  all  as  pleasant  as 
he  had  fancied,  and  would,  if  he  could,  have  gladly  re- 
turned to  his  own  body  again  ;  but,  having  no  power  to 
preserve  it,  his  spirit  had  no  sooner  left  it  than  it  began 
to  decay,  and  at  the  end  of  three  days  it  was  quite  de- 
stroyed ;  so  that  the  unhappy  man  had  no  alternative  but 
to  remain  where  he  was. 


140  Old  Dcccan  Days. 

Meantime,  the  real  Vicram  Maharajah  had  flown,  ir 
the  form  of  a  parrot,  very  far,  far  away,  until  he  reached 
a  large  banyan  tree,  where  there  were  a  thousand  c.  er 
petty  pollies,  whom  he  joined,  making  their  number  a 
thousand  and  one.  Every  day  the  parrots  flew  away  to 
get  food,  and  every  night  they  returned  to  roost  in  the 
great  banyan  tree. 

Now  it  chanced  that  a  hunter  had  often  gone  through 
that  part  of  the  jungle,  and  noticed  the  banyan  tree  and 
the  parrots,  and  he  said  to  himself,  "  If  I  could  only 
catch  the  thousand  and  one  parrots  that  nightly  roost  in 
that  tree,  I  should  not  be  so  often  hungry  as  I  am  now, 
for  they  would  make  plenty  of  very  nice  currie."  But 
he  could  not  do  it,  though  he  often  tried  ;  for  the  trunks 
of  the  tree  were  tall  and  straight,  and  very  slippery,  so 
that  he  no  sooner  climbed  up  a  little  way  than  he  slid 
down  again :  however,  he  did  not  cease  to  look  and 
long. 

One  day,  a  heavy  shower  of  rain  drove  all  the  par- 
rots back  earlier  than  usual  to  their  tree,  and  when  they 
got  there  they  found  a  thousand  crows  who  had  come 
on  their  homeward  flight  to  shelter  themselves  there 
till  the  storm  was  over. 

Then  Vicram  Maharajah  Parrot  said  to  the  other 
parrots,  "  Do  you  not  see  these  crows  have  all  sorts  of 
seeds  and  fruits  in  their  beaks,  which  they  are  carrying 
home  to  their  little  ones  ?  Let  us  quickly  drive  them 
away,  lest  some  of  these  fall  down  under  our  tree, 
which,  being  sown  there,  will  spring  up  strong  plants 
and  twine  round  the  trunks,  and  enable  our  enemy  the 
hunter  to  climb  up  with  ease  and  kill  us  all." 

But  the  other  parrots  answered,  "  That  is  a  very  far 
fetched  idea  1  Do  not  let  us  hunt  the  poor  birds  away 


The  Wanderings  of  Vicram  Maharajah.       141 

from  shelter  in  this  pouring  rain,  they  will  get  so  wet." 
So  the  crows  were  not  molested.  It  turned  out,  how- 
ever, just  as  Vicram  Maharajah  had  foretold  ;  for  some 
of  the  fruits  and  seeds  they  were  taking  home  to  their 
young  ones  fell  under  the  tree,  and  the  seeds  took  root 
and  sprang  up,  strong  creeping  plants,  which  twined 
all  round  the  straight  trunks  of  the  banyan  tree,  and 
made  it  very  easy  to  climb. 

Next  time  the  hunter  came  by  he  noticed  this,  and 
saying,  "  Ah,  my  fine  friends,  I've  got  you  at  last,"  he, 
by  the  help  of  the  creepers,  climbed  the  tree,  and  set 
one  thousand  and  one  snares  of  fine  thread  among  the 
branches  ;  having  done  which  he  went  away. 

That  night,  when  the  parrots  flew  down  on  the 
branches  as  usual,  they  found  themselves  all  caught 
fast  prisoners  by  the  feet. 

"Crick!  crick!  crick!"  cried  they,  "crick!  crick! 
crick!  Oh  dear!  oh  dear!  what  shall  we  do?  what 
can  we  do?  Oh,  Vicram  Maharajah,  you  were  right 
and  we  were  wrong.  Oh  dear !  oh  dear !  crick !  crick ! 
crick !" 

Then  Vicram  said,  "  Did  I  not  tell  you  how  it  would 
be?  But  do  as  I  bid  you,  and  we  may  yet  be  saved. 
So  soon  as  the  hunter  comes  to  take  us  away,  let  every 
one  hang  his  head  down  on  one  side,  as  if  he  were 
dead  ;  then,  thinking  us  dead,  he  will  not  trouble  him- 
self to  wring  our  necks,  or  stick  the  heads  of  those  he 
wishes  to  keep  alive  through  his  belt,  as  he  otherwise 
would ;  but  will  merely  release  us,  and  throw  us  on 
the  ground.  Let  each  one  when  there,  remain  per- 
fectly still,  till  the  whole  thousand  and  one  are  set  free, 
and  the  hunter  begins  to  descend  the  tree ;  then  we 
will  all  fly  up  over  his  head  and  far  out  of  sight." 


142  Old  Deccan  Days. 

The  parrots  agreed  to  do  as  Vicram  Manarajah 
Parrot  proposed,  and  when  the  hunter  came  next 
morning  to  take  them  away,  every  one  had  his  eyes 
shut  and  his  head  hanging  down  on  one  side,  as  if  he 
were  dead.  Then  the  hunter  said,  "  All  dead,  indeed  I 
Then  I  shall  have  plenty  of  nice  currie."  And  so  say- 
ing, he  cut  the  noose  that  held  the  first,  and  threw  him 
down.  The  parrot  fell  like  a  stone  to  the  ground,  so 
did  the  second,  the  third,  the  fourth,  the  fifth,  the  sixth, 
the  seventh,  the  eighth,  the  ninth,  the  tenth,  and  so 
on — up  to  the  thousandth  parrot.  Now  the  thousandth 
and  first  chanced  to  be  none  other  than  Vicram ;  all 
were  released  but  he.  But,  just  as  the  hunter  was 
going  to  cut  the  noose  round  his  feet,  he  let  his  knife 
fall,  and  had  to  go  down  and  pick  it  up  again.  When 
the  thousand  parrots  who  were  on  the  ground,  heard 
him  coming  down,  they  thought,  "  The  thousand  and 
one  are  all  released,  and  here  comes  the  hunter ;  it  is 
time  for  us  to  be  off."  And  with  one  accord  they  flew 
up  into  the  air  and  far  out  of  sight,  leaving  poor  Vicram 
Maharajah  still  a  prisoner. 

The  hunter,  seeing  what  had  happened,  was  very 
angry,  and  seizing  Vicram,  said  to  him,  "  You  wretch- 
ed bird  !  if  s  you  that  have  worked  all  this  mischief.  I 
know  it  must  be,  for  you  are  a  stranger  here,  and  dif- 
ferent to  the  other  parrots.  I'll  strangle  you,  at  all 
events — that  I  will."  But  to  his  surprise,  the  parrot 
answered  him,  "  Do  not  kill  me.  What  good  will  that 
do  you  ?  Rather  sell  me  in  the  next  town.  I  am  very 
handsome.  You  will  get  a  thousand  gold  mohurs* 
for  me." 

44  A  thousand  gold  mohurs  1"  answered  the  hunter, 
*  About  $7,<>oo. 


The  Wanderings  of  Vicram  Maharajah.       143 

much  astonished.  "  You  silly  b;rd,  who'd  be  so  foolish 
as  to  give  a  thousand  gold  mohurs  for  a  parrot?" 
"  Never  mind,"  said  Vicram,  "  only  take  me  and 
try." 

So  the  hunter  took  him  into  the  town,  crying  "Who'll 
buy  ?  who'll  buy  ?  Come  buy  this  pretty  polly  that  can 
talk  so  nicely.  See  how  handsome  he  is — see  what  a 
great  red  ring  he  has  round  his  neck.  Who'll  buy? 
who'll  buy?" 

Then  several  people  asked  how  much  he  would  take 
for  the  parrot ;  but  when  he  said  a  thousand  gold  mo- 
hurs, they  all  laughed  and  went  away,  saying  "  None 
but  a  fool  would  give  so  much  for  a  bird." 

At  last  the  hunter  got  angry,  and  he  said  to  Vicram, 
"  I  told  you  how  it  would  be.  I  shall  never  be  able  to 
sell  you."  But  he  answered,  "  Oh  yes,  you  will.  See 
here  comes  a  merchant  down  this  way ;  I  dare  say  he 
will  buy  me."  So  the  hunter  went  to  the  merchant 
and  said  to  him,  "  Pray,  sir,  buy  my  pretty  parrot." 
"  How  much  do  you  want  for  him  ?"  asked  the  mer- 
chant— "two  rupees?"*  "No,  sir,"  answered  the 
hunter ;  "  I  cannot  part  with  him  for  less  than  a  thou- 
sand gold  mohurs."  "  A  thousand  gold  mohurs !" 
cried  the  merchant,  "  a  thousand  gold  mohurs !  I  never 
heard  of  such  a  thing  in  my  life !  A  thousand  gold 
mohurs  for  one  little  wee  polly !  Why,  with  that  sum 
you  might  buy  a  house,  or  gardens,  or  horses,  or  ten 
thousand  yards  of  the  best  cloth.  Who's  going  to  give 
you  such  a  sum  for  a  parrot  ?  Not  I,  indeed.  I'll  give 
you  iwo  rupees  and  no  more."  But  Vicram  called 
out,  "  Merchant,  merchant,  do  not  fear  to  buy  me.  I 
am  Vicram  Maharajah  Parrot.  Pay  what  the  hunter 
*  About  $1 


144  OM  Deccan  Days. 

asks,  and  I  will  repay  it  to  you — buy  me  only,  and  I 
will  keep  your  shop." 

"  Polly,"  answered  the  merchant,  "  what  nonsense 
you  talk !"  But  he  took  a  fancy  to  the  bird,  and  paid 
the  hunter  a  thousand  gold  mohurs,  and  taking  Vicram 
Maharajah  home,  hung  him  up  in  his  shop. 

Then  the  Parrot  took  on  him  the  duties  of  shopman, 
and  talked  so  much  and  so  wisely  that  every  one  in 
the  town  soon  heard  of  the  merchant's  wonderful  bird. 
Nobody  cared  to  go  to  any  other  shop— all  came  to  his 
shop,  only  to  hear  the  Parrot  talk ;  and  he  sold  them 
what  they  wanted,  and  they  did  not  care  how  much  he 
charged  for  what  he  sold,  but  gave  him  whatever  he 
asked ;  insomuch,  that  in  one  week  the  merchant  had 
made  a  thousand  gold  mohurs  over  and  above  his  usual 
weekly  profits ;  and  there  Vicram  Maharajah  Parrot 
lived  for  a  long  time,  made  much  of  by  everybody,  and 
very  happy. 

It  happened  in  the  town  where  the  merchant  lived 
there  was  a  very  accomplished  Nautch  girl,*  named 
Champa  Ranee.f  She  danced  so  beautifully  that  the 
people  of  the  town  used  always  to  send  for  her  to  dance 
on  the  occasion  of  any  great  festival. 

There  also  lived  in  the  town  a  poor  wood-cutter, 
who  earned  his  living  by  going  out  far  into  the  jungle 
to  cut  wood,  and  bringing  it  in  every  day,  into  the 
bazaar  to  sell. 

One  day  he  went  out  as  usual  into  the  jungle  to  cut 
wood,  and  being  tired,  he  fell  asleep  under  a  tree  and 
began  to  dream ;  and  he  dreamed  that  he  was  a  very 

*  Dancing  girl. 

fThe  Champa  Queen.  "The  Champa"  (Mickelia  cham- 
POCO)  is  a  beautiful,  sweet-scented  yellow  flower. 


The  Wanderings  of  Vicram  Maharajah.     145 

rich  man,  and  that  he  married  the  beautiful  Nautch 
girl,  and  that  he  took  her  home  to  his  house,  and  gave 
his  wife,  as  a  wedding  present,  a  thousand  gold 
mohurs ! 

When  he  went  into  the  bazaar  that  evening  as  usual 
to  sell  wood,  he  began  telling  his  dream  to  his  friends, 
saying,  "  While  I  was  in  the  jungle  I  had  such  an  ab- 
surd dream ;  I  dreamed  that  I  was  a  rich  man,  and 
that  I  married  the  Champa  Ranee,  and  gave  her  as  a 
wedding  present  a  thousand  gold  mohurs !"  "  What 
a  funny  dream !"  they  cried,  and  thought  no  more  of 
it. 

But  it  happened  that  the  house  under  which  he  was 
standing  whilst  talking  to  his  friends  was  Champa 
Ranee's  house,  and  Champa  Ranee  herself  was  near 
the  window,  and  heard  what  he  said,  and  thought  to 
herself,  "  For  all  that  man  looks  so  poor,  he  has  then 
a  thousand  gold  mohurs,  or  he  would  not  have  dreamed 
of  giving  them  to  his  wife  ;  if  that  is  all,  I'll  go  to  law 
about  it,  and  see  if  I  can't  get  the  money." 

So  she  sent  out  her  servants  and  ordered  them  to 
catch  the  poor  wood-cutter ;  and  when  they  caught 
him,  she  began  crying  out,  "  Oh  husband !  husband ! 
here  have  I  been  waiting  ever  so  long,  wondering 
what  has  become  of  you  ;  where  have  you  been  all  this 
time?"  He  answered,  "  I'm  sure  I  don't  know  what 
you  mean.  You're  a  great  lady  and  I'm  a  poor  wood- 
cutter ;  you  must  mistake  me  for  somebody  else." 

But  she  answered,  "  Oh  no  !  don't  you  remember  we 
were  married  on  such  and  such  a  day !  Have  you  for- 
gotten what  a  grand  wedding  it  was,  and  you  took  me 
home  to  your  palace,  and  promised  to  give  me  as  a 
wedding  present  a  thousand  gold  mohurs?  But  you 
13  G 


146  Old  Deccan  Days. 

quite  forgot  to  give  me  the  money,  and  you  went  away, 
and  I  returned  to  my  father's  house  till  I  could  learn 
tidings  of  you  ;  how  can  you  be  so  cruel?" 

The  poor  wood-cutter  thought  he  must  be  dreaming, 
but  all  Champa  Ranee's  friends  and  relations  declared 
that  what  she  said  was  true.  Then,  after  much  quar- 
reling, they  said  they  would  go  to  law  about  it ;  but 
the  judge  could  not  settle  the  matter,  and  referred  it  to 
the  Rajah  himself.  The  Rajah  was  no  less  puzzled 
than  the  judge.  The  wood-cutter  protested  that  he 
was  only  a  poor  wood-cutter ;  but  Champa  Ranee  and 
her  friends  asserted  that  he  was,  on  the  contrary,  a  rich 
man,  her  husband,  and  had  had  much  money,  which 
he  must  have  squandered.  She  offered,  however,  to 
give  up  all  claim  to  that,  if  he  would  only  give  her  a 
thousand  gold  mohurs,  which  he  had  promised  ;  and  so 
suggested  a  compromise.  The  wood-cutter  replied 
that  he  would  gladly  give  the  gold  mohurs  if  he  had 
them ;  but  that  (as  he  brought  witnesses  to  prove)  he 
was  really  and  truly  what  he  professed  to  be — only  a 
poor  wood-cutter,  who  earned  two  annas*  a  day  cut- 
ting wood,  and  had  neither  palace  nor  riches  nor  wife 
in  the  world !  The  whole  city  was  interested  in  this 
curious  case,  and  all  wondered  how  it  would  end ; 
some  being  sure  one  side  was  right,  and  some  equally 
certain  of  the  other. 

The  Rajah  could  make  nothing  of  the  matter,  and 
at  last  he  said  :  "  I  hear  there  is  a  merchant  in  this  town 
who  has  a  very  wise  parrot,  wiser  than  most  men  are  ; 
let  rim  be  sent  for  to  decide  this  business,  for  it  is  be- 
yond me  ;  we  will  abide  by  his  decision." 

So  Vicram  Maharajah  Parrot  was  sent  for,  and 
*  Six  cenU. 


TTie  Wanderings  of  Vicram  Maharajah.     147 

placed  in  the  court  of  justice,  to  hear  and  judge  the 
case. 

First  he  said  to  the  wood-cutter,  "  Tell  me  your  ver- 
sion of  the  story."  And  the  wood-cutter  answered, 
"  Polly,  Sahib,  what  I  tell  is  true.  I  am  a  poor  man. 
I  live  in  the  jungle,  and  earn  my  living  by  cutting 
wood  and  selling  it  in  the  bazaar.  I  never  get  more 
than  two  annas  a  day.  One  day  I  fell  asleep  and 
dreamed  a  silly  dream — how  I  had  become  rich  and 
married  the  Champa  Ranee,  and  had  given  her  as  a 
wedding  present  a  thousand  gold  mohurs  ;  but  it  is  no 
more  true  that  I  owed  her  a  thousand  gold  mohurs,  or 
have  them  to  pay,  than  that  I  married  her. 

"  That  is  enough,"  said  Vicram  Maharajah.  "  Now, 
dancing  girl,  tell  us  your  story."  And  Champa 
Ranee  gave  her  version  of  the  matter.  Then  the  Par- 
rot said  to  her,  "  Tell  me  now  where  was  the  house  of 
this  husband  of  yours,  to  which  he  took  you  ?"  "  Oh  !" 
she  answered  ;  "  very  far  away,  I  don't  know  how  far, 
in  the  jungles."  "How  long  ago  was  it?"  asked  he. 
"  At  such  and  such  a  time,"  she  replied.  Then  he 
called  credible  and  trustworthy  witnesses,  who  proved 
that  Champa  Ranee  had  never  left  the  city  at  the  time 
she  mentioned.  After  hearing  whom,  the  Parrot  said 
to  her,  "  Is  it  possible  that  you  can  have  the  folly  to 
think  any  one  would  believe  that  you  would  leave  your 
rich  and  costly  home  to  go  a  long  journey  into  the 
jungle?  It  is  now  satisfactorily  proved  that  you  did 
not  do  it;  you  had  better  give  up  all  claim  to  the 
thousand  gold  mohurs." 

But  this  the  Nautch  girl  would  not  do.  The  Par- 
rot then  called  for  a  money-lender,  and  begged  of  him 
the  loan  of  a  thousand  gold  mohurs,  which  he  placed 


143  Old  Deccan  Days. 

in  a  great  bottle,  putting  the  stopper  in,  and  sealing  it 
securely  down ;  he  then  gave  it  to  the  Nautch  girl,  and 
said,  "  Get  this  money  if  you  can,  without  breaking  the 
seal  or  breaking  the  bottle."  She  answered,  "  It  can- 
not be  done."  "  No  more,"  replied  Vicram  Mahara- 
jah, "  can  what  you  desire  be  done.  You  cannot  force 
a  poor  man,  who  has  no  money  in  the  world,  to  pay 
you  a  thousand  gold  mohurs. 

"  Let  the  prisoner  go  free  !  Begone,  Champa  Ranee. 
Dancing  girl!  you  are  a  liar  and  a  thief;  go  rob  the 
rich  if  you  will,  but  meddle  no  more  with  the  poor." 

All  applauded  Vicram  Maharajah  Parrot's  decision, 
and  said,  "  Was  ever  such  a  wonderful  bird !"  But 
Champa  Ranee  was  extremely  angry,  and  said  to  him, 
"  Very  well,  nasty  polly ;  nasty,  stupid  polly !  be  as- 
sured before  long  I  will  get  you  in  my  power,  and 
when  I  do,  I  will  bite  off  your  head  !" 

"  Try  your  worst,  madam,"  answered  Vicram  ;  "  but 
in  return,  I  tell  you  this — I  will  live  to  make  you  a 
beggar.  Your  house  shall  be,  by  your  own  order,  laid 
even  with  the  ground,  and  you  for  grief  and  rage  shall 
kill  yourself." 

"  Agreed,"  said  Champa  Ranee  ;  "  we  will  soon  see 
whose  words  come  true — mine  or  yours ;"  and  so  say- 
ing, she  returned  home. 

The  merchant  took  Vicram  Maharajah  back  to  his 
shop,  and  a  week  passed  without  adventure ;  a  fort- 
night passed,  but  still  nothing  particular  happened. 
At  the  end  of  this  time  the  merchant's  eldest  son  was 
married,  and  in  honor  of  the  occasion,  the  merchant 
ordered  that  a  clever  dancing-girl  should  be  sent  for,  to 
dance  before  the  guests.  Champa  Ranee  came,  and 
danced  so  beautifully  that  every  one  was  delighted , 


The  Wanderings  of  Vicram  Maharajah.     149 

and  the  merchant  was  much  pleased,  and  said  to  her, 
4  You  have  done  your  work  very  well,  and  in  payment 
you  may  choose  what  you  like  out  of  my  shop  or 
house,  and  it  shall  be  yours — whether  jewels  or  rich 
cloth,  or  whatever  it  is." 

She  replied,  "  I  desire  nothing  of  the  kind :  of  jewels 
and  rich  stuffs  I  have  more  than  enough,  but  you  shall 
give  me  your  pretty  little  parrot ;  I  like  it  much,  and 
that  is  the  only  payment  I  will  take." 

The  merchant  felt  very  much  vexed,  for  he  had 
never  thought  the  Nautch  girl  would  ask  for  the  parrot 
which  he  was  so  fond  of,  and  which  had  been  so  profit- 
able to  him  ;  he  felt  he  would  rather  have  parted  with 
anything  he  possessed  than  that ;  nevertheless,  having 
promised,  he  was  bound  to  keep  his  word,  so,  with 
many  tears,  he  went  to  fetch  his  favorite.  But  Polly 
cried,  "  Don't  be  vexed,  master ;  give  me  to  the  girl ;  I 
can  take  good  care  of  myself." 

So  Champa  Ranee  took  Vicram  Maharajah  Parrot 
home  with  her ;  and  no  sooner  did  she  get  there  than 
she  sent  for  one  of  her  maids,  and  said,  "  Quick,  take 
this  parrot  and  boil  him  for  my  supper ;  but  first  cut 
off  his  head  and  bring  it  to  me  on  a  plate,  grilled ;  for 
I  will  eat  it  before  tasting  any  other  dish." 

"What  nonsensical  idea  is  this  of  our  mistress,"  said 
the  maid  to  another,  as  she  took  the  parrot  into  the 
kitchen  ;  "  to  think  of  eating  a  grilled  parrot's  head !" 
"  Never  mind,"  said  the  other ;  "  you'd  better  prepare 
it  as  she  bids  you,  or  she'll  be  very  cross."  Then  the 
maid  who  had  received  the  order  began  plucking  the 
long  feathers  out  of  Vicram  Maharajah's  wings,  he  all 
tne  time  hanging  down  his  head,  so  that  she  thought  he 
was  dead.  Then,  going  to  fetch  some  water  in  which 
13  • 


150  Old  Deccan  Days. 

to  boil  him,  she  laid  him  down  close  to  the  place  where 
they  washed  the  dishes.  Now,  the  kitchen  was  on  the 
ground  floor,  and  there  was  a  hole  right  through  the 
wall,  into  which  the  water  used  in  washing  the  dishes 
ran,  and  through  which  all  the  scraps,  bones,  peelings 
and  parings  were  washed  away  after  the  daily  cooking  ; 
and  in  this  hole  Vicram  Maharajah  hid  himself,  quick 
as  thought. 

"  Oh  dear !  oh  dear !"  cried  the  maid  when  she  re- 
turned. "  What  can  I  do  ?  what  will  my  mistress  say  ? 
I  only  turned  my  back  for  one  moment,  and  the  parrot's 
gone."  "  Very  likely,"  answered  the  other  maid, 
"  some  cat  has  taken  it  away.  It  could  not  have  been 
alive,  and  flown  or  run  away,  or  I  should  have  seen 
it  go ;  but  never  fear,  a  chicken  will  do  very  well  for 
her  instead." 

Then  they  took  a  chicken  and  boiled  it,  and  grilled 
the  head  and  took  it  to  their  mistress ;  and  she  eat  it, 
little  bit  by  little  bit,  saying  as  she  did  so — 

"  Ah,  pretty  polly !  so  here's  the  end  of  you  !  This 
is  the  brain  that  thought  so  cunningly  and  devised  my 
overthrow !  this  is  the  tongue  that  spoke  against  me ! 
this  is  the  throat  through  which  came  the  threatening 
words !  Aha  !  who  is  right  now,  I  wonder  ?" 

Vicram,  in  the  hole  close  by,  heard  her  and  felt  very 
much  alarmed ;  for  he  thought,  "  If  she  should  catch 
me  after  all !"  He  could  not  fly  away,  for  all  his  wing 
feathers  had  been  pulled  out ;  so  there  he  had  to  stay 
some  time,  living  on  the  scraps  that  were  washed  into 
the  hole  in  the  washing  of  the  plates,  and  perpetually 
exposed  to  danger  of  being  drowned  in  the  streams  of 
water  that  were  poured  through  it.  At  last,  however 
his  new  feathers  were  sufficiently  grown  to  bear  him 


The  Wanderings  of  Vicram  Maharajah.     151 

and  he  flew  away  to  a  little  temple  in  the  jungle  some 
way  off,  where  he  perched  behind  the  idol. 

It  happened  that  Champa  Ranee  used  to  go  to  that 
temple,  and  he  had  not  been  there  long  before  she  came 
there  to  worship  her  idol. 

She  fell  on  her  knees  before  the  image,  and  began  to 
pray.  Her  prayer  was  that  the  god  would  transport 
her  body  and  soul  to  heaven  (for  she  had  a  horror  of 
dying),  and  she  cried,  "  Only  grant  my  prayer — only 
let  this  be  so,  and  I  will  do  anything  you  wish — any- 
thing— anything." 

Vicram  Maharajah  was  hidden  behind  the  image  and 
heard  her,  and  said — 

"  Champa  Ranee  Nautch  girl,  your  prayer  is  heard  !" 
(She  thought  the  idol  himself  was  speaking  to  her,  and 
listened  attentively.)  "  This  is  what  you  must  do  :  sell 
all  you  possess,  and  give  the  money  to  the  poor ;  you 
must  also  give  money  to  all  your  servants  and  dismiss 
them.  Level  also  your  house  to  the  ground,  that  you 
may  be  wholly  separated  from  earth.  Then  you  will 
be  fit  for  heaven.  Come,  having  done  all  I  command 
you,  on  this  day  week  to  this  place,  and  you  shall  be 
transported  thither  body  and  soul." 

Champa  Ranee  believed  what  she  heard,  and  for- 
getful of  Vicram  Maharajah  Parrot's  threat,  hastened 
to  do  as  she  was  bidden.  She  sold  her  possessions, 
and  gave  all  the  money  to  the  poor ;  razed  her  house 
to  the  ground,  and  dismissed  her  servants  ;  which  being 
accomplished,  on  the  day  appointed  she  went  to  the 
temple,  and  sat  on  the  edge  of  a  well  outside  it,  ex- 
plaining to  the  assembled  people  how  the  idol  himself 
haa  spoken  to  her,  and  how  they  would  shortly  see  her 
caught  up  to  heaven,  and  thus  her  departure  from  the 


15  a  Old  Deccan  Days. 

world  would  be  even  more  celebrated  than  her  doings 
whilst  in  it.  All  the  people  listened  eagerly  to  her 
words,  for  they  believed  her  inspired,  and  to  see  her 
ascension  the  whole  city  had  come  out,  with  hundreds 
and  hundreds  of  strangers  and  travelers,  princes,  mer- 
chants and  nobles,  from  far  and  near,  all  full  of  expec- 
tation and  curiosity. 

Then,  as  they  waited,  a  fluttering  of  little  wings  was 
heard,  and  a  parrot  flew  over  Champa  Ranee's  head, 
calling  out,  "  Nautch  girl !  Nautch  girl !  what  have 
you  done?"  Champa  Ranee  recognized  the  voice  as 
Vicram's ;  he  went  on :  "  Will  you  go  body  and  soul 
to  heaven  ?  have  you  forgotten  polly's  words  ?" 

Champa  Ranee  rushed  into  the  temple,  and,  falling 
on  her  knees  before  the  idol,  cried  out,  "  Gracious 
Power,  I  have  done  all  as  you  commanded ;  let  your 
words  come  true  ;  save  me  ;  take  me  to  heaven." 

But  the  Parrot  above  her  cried,  "  Good-bye,  Champa 
Ranee,  good-bye  ;  you  ate  a  chicken's  head,  not  mine. 
Where  is  your  house  now  ?  where  your  servants  and 
all  your  possessions?  Have  my  words  come  true, 
think  you,  or  yours  ?" 

Then  the  woman  saw  all,  and  in  her  rage  and  de- 
spair, cursing  her  own  folly,  she  fell  violently  down  on 
the  floor  of  the  temple,  and  dashing  her  head  against 
the  stone,  killed  herself. 

It  was  now  two  years  since  the  Rajah  Vicram  left 
nis  kingdom ;  and  about  six  months  before,  Butti,  in 
despair  of  his  ever  returning,  had  set  out  to  seek  for 
him.  Up  and  down  through  many  countries  had  he 
gone,  searching  for  his  master,  but  without  success. 
As  good  fortune  would  have  it,  however,  he  chanced 
to  be  one  of  those  strangers  who  had  come  to  witness 


The  Wanderings  of  Vicram  Maharajah.     153 

the  Nautch  girl's  translation,  and  no  sooner  did  he  sec 
the  Parrot  which  spoke  to  her  than  in  him  he  recog- 
nized Vicram.  The  Rajah  also  saw  him,  and  flew  on 
to  his  shoulder,  upon  which  Butti  caught  him,  put  him 
in  a  cage  and  took  him  home. 

Now  was  a  puzzling  problem  to  be  solved.  The 
Rajah's  soul  was  in  the  Parrot's  body,  and  the  Carpen- 
ter's son's  soul  in  the  Rajah's  body.  How  was  the 
the  latter  to  be  expelled  to  make  way  for  the  former? 
He  could  not  return  to  his  own  body,  for  that  had 
perished  long  before.  The  Wuzeer  knew  not  how  to 
manage  the  matter,  and  determined  therefore  to  await 
the  course  of  events. 

It  happened  that  the  pretended  Rajah  and  Butti  each 
had  a  righting  ram,  and  one  day  the  Rajah  said  to  the 
Wuzeer,  "  Let  us  set  our  rams  to  fight  to-day,  and  try 
the  strength  of  mine  against  yours."  "  Agreed,"  an- 
swered the  Wuzeer ;  and  they  set  them  to  fight.  But 
there  was  much  difference  in  the  two  rams ;  for  when 
Butti's  ram  was  but  a  lamb,  and  his  horns  were  grow- 
ing, Butti  had  tied  him  to  a  lime  tree,  and  his  horns 
had  got  very  strong  indeed  by  constantly  rubbing 
against  its  tender  stem  and  butting  against  it ;  but  the 
Carpenter's  son  had  tied  his  ram,  when  a  lamb,  to  a 
young  teak  tree,  the  trunk  of  which  was  so  stout  and 
strong  that  the  little  creature,  butting  against  it,  could 
make  no  impression  on  it,  but  only  damaged  and 
loosened  his  own  horns. 

The  pretended  Rajah  soon  saw,  to  his  vexation,  that 
his  favorite's  horns  being  less  strong  than  its  oppo- 
nent's, he  was  getting  tired,  and  beginning  to  lose 
courage,  would  certainly  be  worsted  in  the  fight ;  so, 
quick  as  thought,  he  left  his  own  body  and  transported 
G* 


154  Old  Deccan  Days. 

his  soul  into  the  ram's  body,  in  order  to  give  it  ao 
increase  of  courage  and  resolution,  and  enable  it  tc 
win. 

No  sooner  did  Vicram  Maharajah,  who  was  hanging 
up  in  a  cage,  see  what  had  taken  place,  than  he  left  the 
parrot's  body  and  re-entered  his  own  body.  Then 
Butti's  ram  pushed  the  other  down  on  its  knees  and 
the  Wuzeer  ran  and  fetched  a  sword,  and  cut  off  its 
head  ;  thus  putting  an  end,  with  the  life  of  the  ram,  to 
the  life  of  the  Carpenter's  son. 

Great  was  the  joy  of  Anar  Ranee  and  all  the  house- 
hold at  recovering  the  Rajah  after  his  long  absence  ; 
and  Anar  Ranee  prayed  him  to  fly  away  no  more  as  a 
parrot,  which  he  promised  her  he  would  not  do. 

But  the  taste  for  wandering  and  love  of  an  unsettled 
life  did  not  leave  him  on  his  resuming  his  proper  form  ; 
and  one  of  the  things  in  which  he  most  delighted  was 
to  roam  about  the  jungles  near  the  palace  by  himself, 
without  attendant  or  guide.  One  very  sultry  day, 
when  he  was  thus  out  by  himself,  he  wandered  over  a 
rocky  part  of  the  country,  which  was  flat  and  arid, 
without  a  tree  upon  it  to  offer  shelter  from  the  burning 
sun.  Vicram,  tired  with  his  walk,  threw  himself  down 
by  the  largest  piece  of  rock  he  could  find  to  rest.  As 
he  lay  there,  half  asleep,  a  little  Cobra  came  out  of  a 
hole  in  the  ground,  and  seeing  his  mouth  wide  open 
(which  looked  like  some  shady  cranny  in  a  rock),  crept 
in  and  curled  himself  up  in  the  Rajah's  throat. 

Vicram  Maharajah  called  out  to  the  Cobra,  "  Get 
out  of  my  throat."  But  the  Cobra  said,  "  No,  I  won't 
go  ;  I  like  being  here  better  then  under  ground  ;"  and 
there  he  stayed.  Vicram  didn't  know  what  tc  do,  for 
the  Cobra  lived  in  his  throat  and  could  not  be  got  out. 


T%e  Wanderings  of  Vicram  Maharajah.     155 

At  times  it  would  peep  out  of  his  mouth,  but  the  mo- 
ment the  Rajah  tried  to  catch  it,  it  ran  back  again. 

"  Who  ever  heard  of  a  Rajah  in  such  a  miserable 
plight?"  sighed  he  to  Butti — "  to  think  of  having  this 
Cobra  in  my  throat !" 

"  Ah,  my  dear  friend,"  Butti  would  answer,  "  why 
will  you  go  roaming  about  the  country  by  yourself? 
Will  you  never  be  cured  of  it?" 

"  If  one  could  only  catch  this  Cobra,  I'd  be  content 
to  wander  no  more,"  said  the  Rajah,  "  for  my  wander- 
ing has  not  brought  me  much  good  of  late."  But  to 
catch  the  Cobra  was  more  than  any  man  could  do.  At 
last,  one  day,  Vicram,  driven  nearly  mad  in  this  per- 
plexity, ran  away  into  the  jungle.  Tidings  of  this  were 
soon  brought  to  Butti,  who  was  much  grieved  to  hear 
it,  and  sighed,  saying,  "  Alas !  alas !  of  what  avail  to 
Vicram  Maharajah  is  his  more  than  human  wisdom, 
when  the  one  unlucky  self-chosen  gift  neutralizes  all  the 
good  he  might  do  with  it !  It  has  given  him  a  love  of 
wandering  hither  and  thither,  minding  everybody's 
business  but  his  own  ;  his  kingdom  is  neglected,  his 
people  uncared  for,  and  he,  that  used  to  be  the  pride  of 
all  Rajahs,  the  best,  the  noblest,  has  finally  slunk  out 
of  his  country,  like  a  thief  escaping  from  jail." 

Butti  sent  messengers  far  and  wide  seeking  Vicram 
Maharajah,  but  they  could  not  find  him  ;  he  then  deter- 
mined to  go  himself  in  search  of  his  lost  friend ;  and 
having  made  proper  arrangements  for  the  government 
of  the  country  during  his  absence,  he  set  offon  his  travels. 

Meantime  Vicram  wandered  on  and  on  until  at  last, 
one  day,  he  came  to  the  palace  of  a  certain  Rajah,  who 
reigned  over  a  country  very  far  from  his  own,  and  he 
Bat  down  with  the  beggars  at  the  palace  gate. 


156  Old  Deccan  Days. 

Now,  the  Rajah  at  whose  gate  Vicram  Maharajah 
sat  had  a  good  and  lovely  daughter,  named  Buccoulee.* 
Many  Princes  wished  to  marry  this  Princess,  but  she 
would  marry  none  of  them.  Her  father  and  mother 
said  to  her,  "  Why  will  you  not  choose  a  husband  ? 
Among  all  these  Princes  who  ask  you  in  marriage 
there  are  many  rich  and  powerful — many  handsome 
and  brave — many  wise  and  good  ;  why  will  you  refuse 
them  all  ?"  The  Princess  replied,  "  It  is  not  my  destiny 
to  marry  any  of  them  ;  continually  in  my  dreams  I  see 
my  destined  husband,  and  I  wait  for  him."  "  Who  is 
he?"  they  asked.  "  His  name,"  she  answered,  "  is  the 
Rajah  Vicram  ;  he  will  come  from  a  very  far  country ; 
he  has  not  come  yet."  They  replied,  "  There  is  no 
Rajah,  far  or  near,  that  we  know  of,  of  this  name ; 
give  over  this  fancy  of  yours  and  marry  some  one 
else." 

But  she  constantly  refused,  saying,  "  No,  I  will  wait 
for  the  Rajah  Vicram."  Her  parents  thought,  "  It  may 
be  even  as  she  says.  Who  knows  but  perhaps  some 
day  a  great  King,  greater  than  any  we  know,  may  come 
to  this  country  and  wish  to  marry  the  girl ;  we  shall 
then  be  glad  that  we  had  not  obliged  her  to  marry  any 
of  her  present  suitors  ?" 

No  sooner  had  Vicram  Maharajah  come  to  the 
palace  gate,  and  sat  down  there  with  the  beggars,  than 
the  Princess  Buccoulee,  looking  out  of  the  window, 
saw  him  and  cried,  "  There  is  the  husband  I  saw  in  my 
dreams ;  there  is  the  Rajah  Vicram."  "  Where,  child, 
where  ?"  said  her  mother ;  "  there's  no  Rajah  there ; 
only  a  parcel  of  beggars." 

But  the  Princess  persisted  that  one  of  the.m  was  th« 
*  Said  to  mean  some  sort  of  water-plant. 


The  Wanderings  of  Vicram  Maharajah.      157 

Rajah  Vicram.  Then  the  Ranee  sent  for  Vicram  Ma* 
harajah  and  questioned  him. 

He  said  his  name  was  "  Rajah  Vicram."  But  the 
Rajah  and  Ranee  did  not  believe  him  ;  and  they  were 
very  angry  with  the  Princess  because  she  persisted  in 
saying  that  he,  and  no  other,  would  she  marry.  At  last 
they  got  so  enraged  with  her  that  they  said,  "Well, 
marry  your  beggar  husband,  if  you  will,  but  don't  think 
to  remain  any  longer  our  daughter  after  becoming  his 
wife  ;  if  you  marry  him  it  shall  be  to  follow  his  fortunes 
in  the  jungle ;  we  shall  soon  see  you  repent  your  ob- 
stinacy." 

"  I  will  marry  him  and  follow  him  wherever  he  goes," 
said  the  Princess. 

So  Vicram  Maharajah  and  the  Princess  Buccoulee 
were  married,  and  her  parents  turned  her  out  of  the 
house ;  nevertheless,  they  allowed  her  a  little  money. 
"  For"  they  said,  "  she  will  fast  enough  find  the  differ- 
ence between  a  king's  daughter  and  a  beggar's  wife, 
without  wanting  food." 

Vicram  built  a  little  hut  in  the  jungle,  and  there  they 
lived ;  but  the  poor  Princess  had  a  sad  time  of  it,  for 
she  was  neither  accustomed  to  cook  nor  wash,  and  the 
hard  work  tired  her  very  much.  Her  chief  grief,  how- 
ever, was  that  Vicram  should  have  such  a  hideous  tor- 
menter  as  the  Cobra  in  his  throat ;  and  often  and  ^ften 
of  a  night  she  sat  awake,  trying  to  devise  some  means 
for  catching  it,  but  all  in  vain. 

At  last,  one  night,  when  she  was  thinking  about  it, 
she  saw  close  by  two  Cobras  come  out  of  their  holes, 
and  as  they  began  to  talk,  she  listened  to  hear  what 
they  would  say. 

"Who  are  these  people?"  said  the  first  Cobra. 
14 


158  Old  Deccan  Days. 

"  These,"  said  the  second,  «*  are  the  Rajah  Vicram,  and 
his  wife  the  Princess  Buccoulee."  "  What  are  they  doing 
here  ?  why  is  the  Rajah  so  far  from  his  kingdom  ?"  asked 
the  nrst  Cobra. 

"  Oh,  he  ran  away  because  he  was  so  miserable ;  he 
has  a  Cobra  that  lives  in  his  throat,"  answered  the 
second. 

"  Can  no  one  get  it  out?"  said  the  first. 

"  No,"  replied  the  other ;  "  because  they  do  not 
know  the  secret."  "What  secret?"  asked  the  first 
Cobra.  "  Don't  you  know?"  said  the  second  ;  "  why, 
if  his  wife  only  took  a  few  marking  nuts,*  and 
pounded  them  well,  and  mixed  them  in  cocoa-nut  oil, 
and  set  the  whole  on  fire,  and  hung  the  Rajah,  her 
husband,  head  downward  up  in  a  tree  above  it,  the 
smoke,  rising  upward,  would  instantly  kill  the  Cobra 
in  his  mouth,  which  would  tumble  down  dead." 

"  I  never  heard  of  that  before,"  said  the  first  Cobra. 

"  Didn't  you  ?"  exclaimed  the  second.  "  Why,  if 
they  did  the  same  thing  at  the  mouth  of  your  hole, 
they'd  kill  you  in  no  time ;  and  then,  perhaps,  they 
might  find  all  the  fine  treasure  you  have  there !" 
41  Don't  joke  in  that  way,"  said  the  first  Cobra ;  "  I 
don't  like  it ;"  and  he  crawled  away  quite  offended,  and 
the  second  Cobra  followed  him. 

No  sooner  had  the  Princess  heard  this  than  she  de- 
termined to  try  the  experiment.  So  next  morning  she 
sent  for  all  the  villagers  living  near  (who  all  knew  and 
loved  her,  and  would  do  anything  she  told  them,  be- 
cause she  was  the  Rajah's  daughter),  and  bade  them 
take  a  great  cauldron  and  fill  it  with  cocoa-nut  oil,  and 
pound  down  an  immense  number  of  marking  nuts  and 
*S*mecarput  anacardittm. 


The  Wanderings  of  Vicram  Maharajah.      159 

throw  them  into  it,  and  then  bring  the  cauldron  to  her. 
They  did  so,  and  she  set  the  whole  on  fire,  and  caused 
Vicram  to  be  hung  up  in  a  tree  overhead  ;  and  as  soon 
as  the  smoke  from  the  cauldron  rose  in  the  air  it  suffo- 
cated the  Cobra  in  Vicram  Maharajah's  throat,  whicn 
fell  down  quite  dead.  Then  the  Rajah  Vicram  said  to 
his  wife,  "  O  worthy  Buccoulee  !  what  a  noble  woman 
you  are !  You  have  delivered  me  from  this  torment, 
which  was  more  than  all  the  wise  men  in  my  kingdom 
could  do." 

Buccoulee  then  caused  the  cauldron  of  oil  to  be 
placed  close  to  the  hole  of  the  first  Cobra,  which  she 
had  heard  speaking  the  night  before,  and  he  was  suffo- 
cated. 

She  then  ordered  the  people  to  dig  him  out  of  his 
hole,  and  in  it  they  found  a  vast  amount  of  treasure — 
gold,  silver  and  jewels.  Then  Buccoulee  sent  for  royal 
robes  for  herself  and  her  husband,  and  bade  him  cut 
his  hair  and  shave  him  ;  and  when  they  were  all  ready, 
she  took  the  remainder  of  the  treasure  and  returned 
with  it  to  her  father's  house  ;  and  her  father  and  mother, 
who  had  repented  of  their  harshness,  gladly  welcomed 
her  back,  and  were  both  surprised  and  delighted  to  see 
all  the  vast  treasures  she  had,  and  what  a  handsome, 
princely-looking  man  her  husband  was. 

Then  one  day  news  was  brought  to  Vicram  that  a 
stranger  Wuzeer  had  arrived  in  the  palace  as  the 
Rajah's  guest,  and  that  this  Wuzeer  had  for  twelve 
years  been  wandering  round  the  world  in  search  of  his 
master,  but,  not  having  found  him,  was  returning  to  his 
own  home.  Vicram  thought  to  himself,  "  Can  this 
possibly  be  Butti  ?"  and  he  ran  to  see. 

It  was  indeed  Butti,  who  cried  for  joy  to  see 


160  Old  Deccan  Days. 

saying?  "  Oh  Vicram,  Vicram !  do  you  know  it  is 
twelve  years  since  you  left  us  all  ?" 

Then  Vicram  Maharajah  told  Butti  how  the  good 
Princess  Buccoulee  had  married  him  and  succeeded  in 
killing  the  Cobra,  and  how  he  was  then  on  the  point  of 
returning  to  his  own  country.  So  they  all  set  out  to- 
gether, being  given  many  rich  presents  by  Buccoulee's 
father  and  mother.  At  last  after  a  long,  long  journey, 
they  reached  home.  Anar  Ranee  was  overjoyed  to  see 
them  again,  for  she  had  long  mourned  her  husband  as 
dead.  When  Buccoulee  Ranee  was  told  who  Anar 
Ranee  was  and  taken  to  see  her,  she  felt  very  much  fright- 
ened, for  she  thought,  "  Perhaps  she  will  be  jealous  of 
me  and  hate  me."  But  with  a  gentle  smile  Anar  Ranee 
came  to  meet  her,  saying,  "  Sister,  I  hear  it  is  to  you  we 
owe  the  preservation  of  the  Rajah,  and  that  it  was  you 
who  killed  the  Cobra ;  I  can  never  be  sufficiently 
grateful  to  you,  nor  love  you  enough,  as  long  as  I 
live." 

From  that  day  Vicram  Maharajah  stayed  in  his  own 
kingdom,  ruling  it  wisely  and  well,  and  beloved  by  all. 
He  and  Butti  lived  to  a  good  old  age,  and  their  affec- 
tion for  each  other  lasted  as  long  as  they  lived.  So 
that  it  became  a  proverb  it  that  country,  and  instead  of 
saying,  "  So-and-so  love  each  other  like  brothers" 
(when  speaking  of  two  who  were  much  attached),  the 
people  would  say,  "  So-and-so  love  each  other  like  the 
Rajah  and  the  Wuzeo*-  " 


VIII. 
LESS  INEQUALITY  THAN  MEN  DEEM. 

A  YOUNG  Rajah  once  said  to  his  Wuzeer,  "  How 
is  it  that  I  am  so  often  ill  ?  I  take  care  of  my- 
self;  I  never  go  out  in  the  rain  ;  I  wear  warm  clothes  ; 
I  eat  good  food.  Yet  I  am  always  catching  cold  or 
getting  fever,  in  spite  of  all  precautions." 

"  Overmuch  care  is  worse  than  none  at  all,"  answered 
the  Wuzeer,  "  which  I  will  soon  prove  to  you." 

So  he  invited  the  Rajah  to  accompany  him  for  a 
walk  in  the  fields.  Before  they  had  gone  very  far  they 
met  a  poor  Shepherd.  The  Shepherd  was  accustomed 
to  be  out  all  day  long,  tending  his  flock ;  he  had  only  a 
coarse  cloak  on,  which  served  but  insufficiently  to  pro- 
tect him  from  the  rain  and  the  cold — from  the  dews  by 
night  and  the  sun  by  day ;  his  food  was  parched  corn, 
his  drink  water;  and  he  lived  out  in  the  fields  in  a 
small  hut  made  of  plaited  palm  branches.  The  Wu- 
zeer said  to  the  Rajah,  "You  know  perfectly  well 
what  hard  lives  these  poor  shepherds  lead.  Accost 
this  one,  and  ask  him  if  he  often  suffers  from  the  expo- 
sure which  he  is  obliged  to  undergo." 

The  Rajah  did  as  the  Wuzeer  told  him,  and  asked 
the  Shepherd  whether  he  did  not  often  suffer  from 
14  •  161 


i6a  Old  Deccan  Days. 

rheumatism,  cold  and  fever.  The  Shepherd  answered, 
"  Perhaps  it  will  surprise  you,  sire,  to  hear  that  I  never 
suffer  from  either  the  one  or  the  other.  From  child 
hood  I  have  been  accustomed  to  endure  the  extremes 
of  heat  and  cold,  and  I  suppose  that  is  why  they  never 
affect  me." 

At  this  the  Rajah  was  very  much  astonished,  and  he 
said  to  the  Wuzeer,  "  I  own  I  am  surprised ;  but 
doubtless  this  Shepherd  is  an  extraordinarily  strong 
man,  whom  nothing  would  ever  affect."  "  We  shall 
see,"  said  the  Wuzeer ;  and  he  invited  the  Shepherd  to 
the  palace.  There,  for  a  long  time,  the  Shepherd  was 
taken  great  care  of;  he  was  never  permitted  to  go  out 
in  the  sun  or  rain,  he  had  good  food  and  good  clothes, 
and  he  was  not  allowed  to  sit  in  a  draught  or  get  his 
feet  wet.  At  the  end  of  some  months  the  Wuzeer  sent 
for  him  into  a  marble  courtyard,  the  floor  of  which  he 
caused  to  be  sprinkled  with  water. 

The  Shepherd  had  been  for  some  time  so  little  used 
to  exposure  of  any  kind  that  wetting  his  feet  caused 
him  to  take  cold  ;  the  place  felt  to  him  chilly  and  damp 
after  the  palace ;  he  rapidly  became  worse,  and  in  a 
short  time,  in  spite  of  all  the  doctors'  care,  he  died. 
"  Where  is  our  friend  the  Shepherd  ?"  asked  the  Rajah, 
a  few  days  afterward ;  "  he  surely  could  not  have 
caught  cold  merely  by  treading  on  tne  marble  floor  you 
had  caused  to  be  sprinkled  with  water?" 

"Alas!"  answered  the  Wuzeer,  "the  result  was 
more  disastrous  than  I  had  anticipated  ;  the  poor  Shep- 
herd caught  cold  and  is  dead.  Having  been  lately 
accustomed  to  overmuch  care,  the  sudden  change  of 
temperature  killed  him. 


Less  Inequality  than  Men  Deem. 


i63 


"  You  see  now  to  what  dangers  we  are  exposed  from 
which  the  poor  are  exempt.  It  is  thus  that  Nature 
equalizes  her  best  gifts  ;  wealth  and  opulence  tend  too 
frequently  to  destroy  health  and  shorten  life,  though 
they  may  give  much  enjoyment  to  it  whilst  it  lasts." 


IX. 
PANCH-PHUL   RANEE. 

A  CERTAIN  Rajah  had  two  wives,  of  whom  he 
preferred  the  second  to  the  first ;  the  first  Ranee 
had  a  son,  but,  because  he  was  not  the  child  of  the 
second  Ranee,  his  father  took  a  great  dislike  to  him, 
and  treated  him  so  harshly  that  the  poor  boy  was  very 
unhappy. 

One  day,  therefore,  he  said  to  his  mother :  "  Mother, 
my  father  does  not  care  for  me,  and  my  presence  is 
only  a  vexation  to  him.  I  should  be  happier  anywhere 
than  here  ;  let  me  therefore  go  and  seek  my  fortune  in 
other  lands." 

So  the  Ranee  asked  her  husband  if  he  would  allow 
their  son  to  travel.  He  said,  "  The  boy  is  free  to  go, 
but  I  don't  see  how  he  is  to  live  in  any  other  part  of 
the  world,  for  he  is  too  stupid  to  earn  his  living,  and  I 
will  give  him  no  money  to  squander  on  senseless  plea- 
sures." Then  the  Ranee  told  her  son  that  he  had  his 
father's  permission  to  travel,  and  said  to  him,  "  You 
are  going  out  into  the  world  now  to  try  your  luck ;  take 
with  you  the  food  and  clothes  I  have  provided  for  your 
journey."  And  she  gave  him  a  bundle  of  clothes  and 
several  small  loaves,  and  in  each  loaf  she  placed  a 
gold  mohur,  that  on  opening  it,  he  might  find  money 
as  well  as  food  inside  ;  and  he  started  on  his  journey. 
104 


Panch-Phul  Ranee.  165 

When  the  young  Rajah  had  traveled  a  long  way, 
and  left  his  father's  kingdom  far  behind,  he  one  day 
came  upon  the  outskirts  of  a  great  city,  where  (instead 
of  taking  the  position  due  to  his  rank,  and  sending  to 
inform  the  Rajah  of  his  arrival)  he  went  to  a  poor 
Carpenter's  house,  and  begged  of  him  a  lodging  for  the 
night.  The  Carpenter  was  busy  making  wooden  clogs 
in  the  porch  of  his  house,  but  he  looked  up  and  nodded, 
saying,  "  Young  man,  you  are  welcome  to  any  assist- 
ance a  stranger  may  need  and  we  can  give.  If  you  are 
in  want  of  food,  you  will  find  my  wife  and  daughter  in 
the  house  :  they  will  be  happy  to  cook  for  you."  The 
Rajah  went  inside  and  said  to  the  Carpenter's  daughter, 
"  I  am  a  stranger,  and  have  traveled  a  long  way  ;  I  am 
both  tired  and  hungry :  cook  me  some  dinner  as  fast  as 
you  can,  and  I  will  pay  you  for  your  trouble."  She 
answered,  "  I  would  willingly  cook  you  some  dinner  at 
once,  but  I  have  no  wood  to  light  the  fire,  and  the 
jungle  is  some  way  off."  "  It  matters  not,"  said  the 
Rajah  ;  "  this  will  do  to  light  the  fire,  and  I'll  make 
the  loss  good  to  your  father ;"  and  taking  a  pair  of  new 
clogs  which  the  Carpenter  had  just  finished  making,  he 
broke  them  up  and  lighted  the  fire  with  them. 

Next  morning  he  went  into  the  jungle,  cut  wood, 
and,  having  made  a  pair  of  new  clogs — better  than 
those  with  which  he  had  lighted  the  fire  the  evening 
before — placed  them  with  the  rest  of  the  goods  for  sale 
in  the  Carpenter's  shop.  Shortly  afterward,  one  of  the 
servants  of  the  Rajah  of  that  country  came  to  buy  a 
pair  of  clogs  for  his  master,  and  seeing  these  new  ones, 
said  to  the  Carpenter,  "Why,  man,  these  clogs  are 
better  than  all  the  rest  put  together.  I  will  take  none 
other  to  the  Rajah.  I  wish  you  would  always  make 


166  Old  Deccan  Days. 

such  clogs  as  these."  And  throwing  down  ten  gold 
mohurs  on  the  floor  of  the  hut,  he  took  up  the  clogs 
and  went  away. 

The  Carpenter  was  much  surprised  at  the  whole 
business.  In  the  first  place,  he  usually  received  only 
two  or  three  rupees  for  each  pair  of  clogs ;  and  in  the 
second,  he  knew  that  these  which  the  Rajah's  servant 
had  judged  worth  ten  gold  mohurs  had  not  been  made 
by  him ;  and  how  they  had  come  there  he  could  not 
think,  for  he  felt  certain  they  were  not  with  the  rest  of 
the  clogs  the  night  before.  He  thought  and  thought, 
but  the  more  he  thought  about  the  matter  the  more  puz- 
zled he  got,  and  he  went  to  talk  about  it  to  his  wife  and 
daughter.  Then  his  daughter  said,  "  Oh,  those  must 
have  been  the  clogs  the  stranger  made  !"  And  she  told 
her  father  how  he  had  lighted  the  fire  the  night  before 
with  two  of  the  clogs  which  were  for  sale,  and  had 
afterward  fetched  wood  from  the  jungle  and  made  an- 
other pair  to  replace  them. 

The  Carpenter  at  this  news  was  more  astonished  than 
ever,  and  he  thought  to  himself,  "  Since  this  stranger 
seems  a  quiet,  peaceable  sort  of  man,  and  can  make 
clogs  so  well,  it  is  a  great  pity  he  should  leave  this 
place  :  he  would  make  a  good  husband  for  my  daugh- 
ter ;"  and,  catching  hold  of  the  young  Rajah,  he  pro- 
pounded his  scheme  to  him.  (But  all  this  time  he  had 
no  idea  that  his  guest  was  a  Rajah.) 

Now  the  Carpenter's  daughter  was  a  very  pretty  girl 
— as  pretty  as  any  Ranee  you  ever  saw ;  she  was  also 
good-tempered,  clever,  and  could  cook  extremely  well. 
So  when  the  Carpenter  asked  the  Rajah  to  be  his  son-in- 
law,  he  looked  at  the  father,  the  mother  and  the  girl, 
and  thinking  to  himself  that  many  a  better  man  had  a 


Panch-Phul  Ranee.  167 

worse  fate,  he  said,  "  Yes,  I  will  marry  your  daughter, 
and  stay  here  and  make  clogs."  So  the  Rajah  married 
the  Carpenter's  daughter. 

This  Rajah  was  very  clever  at  making  all  sorts  of 
things  in  wood.  When  he  had  made  all  the  clogs  he 
wished  to  sell  next  day,  he  would  amuse  himself  in 
making  toys ;  and  in  this  way  he  made  a  thousand 
wooden  parrots.  They  were  as  like  real  parrots  as 
possible.  They  had  each  two  wings,  two  legs,  two 
eyes  and  a  sharp  beak.  And  when  the  Rajah  had 
finished  them  all,  he  painted  and  varnished  them  and 
put  them  one  afternoon  outside  the  house  to  dry. 

Night  came  on,  and  with  it  came  Parbuttee  and 
Mahdeo,*  flying  round  the  world  to  see  the  different 
races  of  men.  Amongst  the  many  places  they  visited 
was  the  city  where  the  Carpenter  lived ;  and  in  the 
garden  in  front  of  the  house  they  saw  the  thousand 
wooden  parrots  which  the  Rajah  had  made  and  painted 
and  varnished,  all  placed  out  to  dry.  Then  Parbuttee 
turned  to  Mahdeo,  and  said,  "  These  parrots  are  very 
well  made — they  need  nothing  but  life.  Why  should 
not  we  give  them  life?"  Mahdeo  answered,  "What 
would  be  the  use  of  that  ?  It  would  be  a  strange  freak, 
indeed !"  "  Oh,"  said  Parbuttee,  "  I  only  meant  you  to 
do  it  as  an  amusement.  It  would  be  so  funny  to  see  the 
wooden  parrots  flying  about !  But  do  not  do  it  if  you 
don't  like."  "You  would  like  it  then?"  answered 
Mahdeo.  "  Very  well,  I  will  do  it."  And  he  endowed 
the  thousand  parrots  with  life. 

Parbuttee  and  Mahdeo  then  flew  away. 

Next  morning  the  Rajah  got  up  early  to  see  if  the 

*  The  god  Mahdeo  is  an  incarnation  of  Siva  the  Destroyer. 
The  goddess  Parbuttee  is  his  wife. 


i68  Old  Deccan  Days. 

varnish  he  had  put  on  the  wooden  parrots  was  dry  ;  but 
no  sooner  did  he  open  the  door  than — marvel  of  mar- 
vels ! — the  thousand  wooden  parrots  all  came  walking 
into  the  house,  flapping  their  wings  and  chattering  to 
each  other. 

Hearing  the  noise,  the  Carpenter  and  the  Carpenter's 
wife  and  daughter  came  running  out  to  see  what  was 
the  matter,  and  were  not  less  astonished  than  the  Rajah 
himself  at  the  miracle  which  had  taken  place.  Then 
the  Carpenter's  wife  turned  to  her  son-in-law,  and  said, 
"  It  is  all  very  well  that  you  should  have  made  these 
wooden  parrots ;  but  I  don't  know  where  we  are  to  find 
food  for  them  !  Great,  strong  parrots  like  these  will  eat 
not  less  than  a  pound  of  rice  a-piece  every  day.  Your 
father-in-law  and  I  cannot  afford  to  procure  as  much  as 
that  for  them  in  this  poor  house.  If  you  wish  to  keep 
them,  you  must  live  elsewhere,  for  we  cannot  provide 
for  you  all." 

"Very  well,"  said  the  Rajah;  "you  shall  not  have 
cause  to  accuse  me  of  ruining  you,  for  from  henceforth 
I  will  have  a  house  of  my  own."  So  he  and  his  wife 
went  to  live  in  a  house  of  their  own,  and  he  took  the 
thousand  parrots  with  him,  and  his  mother-in-law  gave 
her  daughter  some  corn  and  rice  and  money  to  begin 
housekeeping  with.  Moreover,  he  found  that  the  par- 
rots, that  instead  of  being  an  expense,  were  the  means 
of  increasing  his  fortune ;  for  they  flew  away  every 
morning  early  to  get  food,  and  spent  the  whole  day  out 
in  the  fields ;  and  every  evening,  when  they  returned 
home,  each  parrot  brought  in  his  beak  a  stalk  of  corn 
or  rice,  or  whatever  it  had  found  good  to  eat  So  that 
their  master  was  regularly  supplied  with  more  food 
than  enough ;  and  what  with  selling  what  he  did  not 


Panch-Phul  Ranee.  169 

require,  and  working  at  his  trade,  he  soon  became  quite 
a  rich  carpenter. 

After  he  had  been  living  in  this  way  very  happily 
for  some  time,  one  night,  when  he  fell  asleep,  the 
Rajah  dreamed  a  wonderful  dream,  and  this  was  the 
dream : 

He  thought  that  very,  very  far  away  beyond  the  Red 
Sea  was  a  beautiful  kingdom  surrounded  by  seven 
other  seas ;  and  that  it  belonged  to  a  Rajah  and  Ranee 
who  had  one  lovely  daughter,  named  Panch-Phul  Ranee 
(the  Five  Flower  Queen),  after  whom  the  whole  king- 
dom was  called  Panch-Phul  Ranee's  country ;  and  that 
this  Princess  lived  in  the  centre  of  her  father's  kingdom, 
in  a  little  house  round  which  were  seven  wide  ditches, 
and  seven  great  hedges  made  of  spears ;  and  that  she 
was  called  Panch-Phul  Ranee  because  she  was  so  light 
and  delicate  that  she  weighed  no  more  than  five  white 
lotus  flowers !  Moreover,  he  dreamed  that  this  Prin- 
cess had  vowed  to  marry  no  one  who  could  not  cross 
the  seven  seas,  and  jump  the  seven  ditches,  and  seven 
hedges  made  of  spears. 

After  dreaming  this  the  young  Rajah  awoke,  and 
feeling  much  puzzled,  got  up,  and  sitting  with  his  head 
in  his  hands,  tried  to  think  the  matter  over  and  discover 
if  he  had  ever  heard  anything  like  his  dream  before ; 
but  he  could  make  nothing  of  it. 

Whilst  he  was  thus  thinking,  his  wife  awoke  and 
asked  him  what  was  the  matter.  He  told  her,  and  she 
said,  "  That  is  a  strange  dream.  If  I  were  you,  I'd 
ask  the  old  parrot  about  it ;  he  is  a  wise  bird,  and  per- 
haps he  knows."  This  parrot  of  which  she  spoke  was 
the  most  wise  of  all  the  thousand  wooden  parrots.  The 
Rajah  took  his  wife's  advice,  and  when  all  the  bird* 

16  H 


170  Old  Deccan  Days. 

came  home  that  evening,  he  called  the  old  parrot  and 
told  him  his  dream,  saying,  "Can  this  be  true?"  To 
which  the  parrot  replied,  "•  It  is  all  true.  The  Panch- 
Phul  Ranee's  country  lies  beyond  the  Red  Sea,  and  is 
surrounded  by  seven  seas,  and  she  dwells  in  a  house 
built  in  the  centre  of  her  father's  kingdom.  Round  her 
house  are  seven  ditches,  and  seven  hedges  made  of 
spears,  and  she  has  vowed  not  to  marry  any  man  who 
cannot  jump  these  seven  ditches  and  seven  hedges : 
and  because  she  is  very  beautiful  many  great  and  noble 
men  have  tried  to  do  this,  but  in  vain. 

"  The  Rajah  and  Ranee,  her  father  and  mother,  are 
very  fond  of  her  and  proud  of  her.  Every  day  she  goes 
to  the  palace  to  see  them,  and  they  weigh  her  in  a  pair 
of  scales.  They  put  her  in  one  scale  and  five  lotus  flowers 
in  the  other,  and  she's  so  delicate  and  fragile  she  weighs 
no  heavier  than  the  five  little  flowers,  so  they  call  her  the 
Panch-Phul  Ranee.  Her  father  and  mother  are  very 
proud  of  this." 

"  I  should  like  to  go  to  that  country  and  see  the  Panch- 
Phul  Ranee,"  said  the  Rajah  ;  "  but  I  don't  know  how 
I  could  cross  the  seven  seas."  "  I  will  show  you  how 
to  manage  that,"  replied  the  old  parrot.  "  I  and  another 
parrot  will  fly  close  together,  I  crossing  my  left  over  his 
right  wing ;  so  that  we  will  move  along  as  if  we  were  one 
bird  (using  only  our  outside  wings  to  fly  with),  and  on 
the  chair  made  of  our  interlaced  wings  you  shall  sit,  and 
we  will  carry  you  safely  across  the  seven  seas.  On  the 
way  we  will  every  evening  alight  in  some  high  tree  and 
rest,  and  every  morning  we  can  go  on  again."  "  That 
sounds  a  good  plan  ;  I  have  a  great  desire  to  try  it,"  said 
the  Rajah.  "  Wife,  what  should  you  think  of  my  going 
to  the  Panch-Phul  Ranee's  country,  and  seeing  if  I  can 


Panch-Phul  Ranee.  171 

jump  the  seven  ditches,  and  seven  hedges  made  of  spears . 
Will  you  let  me  try?" 

"  Yes,"  she  answered.  "  If  you  like  to  go  and  marry 
her,  go  ;  only  take  care  that  you  do  not  kill  yourself; 
and  mind  you  come  back  some  day."  And  she  prepared 
food  for  him  to  take  with  him,  and  took  off  her  gold  and 
silver  bangles,  which  she  placed  in  a  bundle  of  warm 
things,  that  he  might  be  in  need  neither  of  money  nor 
clothes  on  the  journey.  He  then  charged  the  nine  hun- 
dred and  ninety-eight  parrots  he  left  behind  him  to  bring 
her  plenty  of  corn  and  rice  daily  (that  she  might  never 
need  food  while  he  was  away),  and  took  her  to  the  house 
of  her  father,  in  whose  care  she  was  to  remain  during 
his  absence  ;  and  he  wished  her  good-bye,  saying,  "  Do 
not  fear  but  that  I  will  come  back  to  you,  even  if  I  do 
win  the  Panch-Phul  Ranee,  for  you  will  always  be  my 
first  wife,  though  you  are  the  Carpenter's  daughter." 

The  old  parrot  and  another  parrot  then  spread  their 
wings,  on  which  the  Rajah  seated  himself  as  on  a  chair, 
and  rising  up  in  the  air,  they  flew  away  with  him  out 
of  sight. 

Far,  far,  far  they  flew,  as  fast  as  parrots  can  fly,  over 
hills,  over  forests,  over  rivers,  over  valleys,  on,  on,  on, 
hour  after  hour,  day  after  day,  week  after  week,  only 
staying  to  rest  every  night  when  it  got  too  dark  to  see 
where  they  were  going.  At  last  they  reached  the  seven 
seas  which  surrounded  the  Panch-Phul  Ranee's  country. 
When  once  they  began  crossing  the  seas  they  could  not 
rest  (for  there  was  neither  rock  nor  island  on  which  to 
alight),  so  they  were  obliged  to  fly  straight  across  them; 
night  and  day,  until  they  gained  the  shore. 

By  reason  of  this  the  parrots  were  too  exhausted  on 
their  arrival  to  go  as  far  as  the  city  where  the  Rajah, 


173  Old  Deccan  Days. 

Panch-Phul  Ranee's  father,  lived,  but  they  flew  down  to 
rest  on  a  beautiful  banyan  tree,  which  grew  not  far  from 
the  sea,  close  to  a  small  village.  The  Rajah  determined 
to  go  into  the  village  and  get  food  and  shelter  there 
He  told  the  parrots  to  stay  in  the  banyan  tree  till  his 
return  ;  then,  leaving  his  bundle  of  clothes  and  most  of 
his  money  in  their  charge,  he  set  off  on  foot  toward 
the  nearest  house. 

After  a  little  while  he  reached  a  Malee's  cottage,  and 
giving  a  gold  mohur  to  the  Malee's  wife,  got  her  to 
provide  him  with  food  and  shelter  for  the  night. 

Next  morning  he  rose  early,  and  said  to  his  hostess, 
"  I  am  a  stranger  here,  and  know  nothing  of  the  place. 
What  is  the  name  of  your  country  ?  "  "  This,"  she  said, 
"  is  Panch-Phul  Ranee's  country." 

"  And  what  is  the  last  news  in  your  town?  "  he  asked. 
"Very  bad  news  indeed,"  she  replied.  "You  must 
know  our  Rajah  has  one  only  daughter — a  most  beauti- 
ful Princess — and  her  name  is  Panch-Phul  Ranee,  for 
she  is  so  light  and  delicate  that  she  weighs  no  heavier 
than  five  lotus  flowers.  After  her  this  whole  country  is 
called  Panch-Phul  Ranee's  country.  She  lives  in  a  small 
bungalow*  in  the  centre  of  the  city  you  see  yonder ; 
but,  unluckily  for  us,  she  has  vowed  to  marry  no  man 
who  cannot  jump  on  foot  over  the  seven  hedges  made 
of  spears,  and  across  the  seven  great  ditches  that  sur- 
round her  house.  This  cannot  be  done,  Babamah !  f 
I  don't  know  how  many  hundreds  of  thousands  of 
Rajahs  have  tried  to  do  it  and  died  in  the  attempt  I 
Yet  the  Princess  will  not  break  her  vow.  Daily,  worse 
and  worse  tidings  come  from  the  city  of  fresh  people 
having  been  killed  in  trying  to  jump  the  seven  hedges 
•  Hou««.  t  Oh,  my  Child. 


Panch-Phul  Ranee.  173 

and  seven  ditches,  and  I  see  no  end  to  the  misfortunes 
that  will  arise  from  it.  Not  only  are  so  many  brave 
men  lost  to  the  world,  but,  since  the  Princess  will  marry 
no  one  who  does  not  succeed  in  this,  she  stands  a  chance 
of  not  marrying  at  all ;  and  if  that  be  so,  when  the 
Rajah  dies  there  will  be  no  one  to  protect  her  and  claim 
the  right  to  succeed  to  the  throne.  All  the  nobles  will 
probably  fight  for  the  Raj,  and  the  whole  kingdom  be 
turned  topsy-turvy." 

"Mahi,"*  said  the  Rajah,  "if  that  is  all  there  is  to 
do,  I  will  try  and  win  your  Princess,  for  I  can  jump 
right  well." 

"  Baba,"f  answered  the  Malee's  wife,  "  do  not  think 
of  such  a  thing ;  are  you  mad  ?  I  tell  you,  hundreds 
of  thousands  of  men  have  said  these  words  before,  and 
been  killed  for  their  rashness.  What  power  do  you 
think  you  possess  to  succeed  where  all  before  you  have 
failed?  Give  up  all  thought  of  this,  for  it  is  utter 
folly." 

"  I  will  not  do  it,"  answered  the  Rajah, "  before  going 
to  consult  some  of  my  friends." 

So  he  left  the  Malee's  cottage,  and  returned  to  the 
banyan  tree  to  talk  over  the  matter  with  the  parrots ; 
for  he  thought  they  would  be  able  to  carry  him  on  their 
wings  across  the  seven  ditches  and  seven  hedges  made 
of  spears.  When  he  reached  the  tree  the  old  parrot 
said  to  him,  "It  is  two  days  since  you  left  us ;  what 
news  have  you  brought  from  the  village  ?  "  The  Rajah 
answered,  "  The  Panch-Phul  Ranee  still  lives  in  the 
house  surrounded  by  the  seven  ditches,  and  seven  hedges 
made  of  spears,  and  has  vowed  to  marry  no  man  who 
cannot  jump  over  them  ;  but  cannot  you  parrots,  who 
*  Woman  or  mother.  t  Child. 


1 74  Old  Deccan  Days. 

brought  me  all  the  way  over  the  seven  seas,  carry  me 
on  your  wings  across  these  great  barriers  ?  " 

"  You  stupid  man  !"  answered  the  old  parrot ;  "  of 
course  we  could  ;  but  what  would  be  the  good  of  doing 
so  ?  If  we  carried  you  across,  it  would  not  be  at  all 
the  same  thing  as  your  jumping  across,  and  the  Prir- 
cess  would  no  more  consent  to  marry  you  than  she 
would  now ;  for  she  has  vowed  to  marry  no  one  who 
has  not  jumped  across  on  foot.  If  you  want  to  do  the 
thing,  why  not  do  it  yourself,  instead  of  talking  non- 
sense. Have  you  forgotten  how,  when  you  were  a  lit- 
tle boy,  you  were  taught  to  jump  by  conjurors  and 
tumblers  (for  the  parrot  knew  all  the  Rajah's  history)  ? 
Now  is  the  time  to  put  their  lessons  in  practice.  If 
you  can  jump  the  seven  ditches,  and  seven  hedges 
made  of  spears,  you  will  have  done  a  good  work,  and 
be  able  to  marry  the  Panch-Phul  Ranee ;  but  if  not, 
this  is  a  thing  in  which  we  cannot  help  you." 

"  You  reason  justly,"  replied  the  Rajah.  "  I  will 
try  to  put  in  practice  the  lessons  I  learnt  when  a  boy ; 
meantime,  do  you  stay  here  till  my  return." 

So  saying,  he  went  away  to  the  city,  which  he 
reached  by  nightfall.  Next  morning  early  he  went  to 
where  the  Princess'  bungalow  stood,  to  try  and  jump 
the  fourteen  great  barriers.  He  was  strong  and  agile, 
and  he  jumped  the  seven  great  ditches,  and  six  of  the 
seven  hedges  made  of  spears ;  but  in  running  to  jump 
the  seventh  hedge  he  hurt  his  foot,  and,  stumbling,  fell 
upon  the  spears  and  died — run  through  and  through 
with  the  cruel  iron  spikes. 

When  Panch-Phul  Ranee's  father  and  mother  got  up 
that  morning  and  looked  out,  as  their  custom  was,  to- 
ward their  daughter's  bungalow,  they  saw  something 


Panch-Phul  Ranee.  175 

transfixed  upon  the  seventh  hedge  of  spears,  but  what  it 
was  they  could  not  make  out,  for  it  dazzled  their  eyes. 
So  the  Rajah  called  his  Wuzeer  and  said  to  him,  "For 
some  days  I  have  seen  no  one  attempt  to  jump  the 
seven  hedges  and  seven  ditches  round  Panch-Phul 
Ranee's  bungalow ;  but  what  is  that  which  I  now  see 
upon  the  seventh  hedge  of  spears  ?"  The  Wuzeer  an- 
swered, "  That  is  a  Rajah's  son,  who  has  failed  like  all 
who  have  gone  before  him."  u  But  how  is  it,"  asked 
the  Rajah,  "  that  he  thus  dazzles  our  eyes?" 

"  It  is,"  replied  the  Wuzeer,  "  because  he  is  so  beau- 
tiful. Of  all  that  have  died  for  the  sake  of  Panch- 
Phul  Ranee,  this  youth  is,  beyond  doubt,  the  hand- 
somest." "  Alas !"  cried  the  Rajah,  "  how  many  and 
how  many  brave  men  has  my  daughter  killed  ?  I  will 
have  no  more  die  for  her.  Let  us  send  her  and  the 
dead  man  together  away  into  the  jungle." 

Then  he  ordered  the  servants  to  fetch  the  young 
Rajah's  body.  There  he  lay,  still  and  beautiful,  with 
a  glory  shining  round  him  as  the  moonlight  shines 
round  the  clear  bright  moon,  but  without  a  spark  of  life. 

When  the  Rajah  saw  him,  he  said,  "  Oh  pity,  pity, 
that  so  brave  and  handsome  a  boy  should  have  come 
dying  after  this  girl !  Yet  he  is  but  one  of  the  thou- 
sands of  thousands  who  have  died  thus  to  no  purpose. 
Pull  up  the  spears  and  cast  them  into  the  seven  ditches, 
for  they  shall  remain  no  longer." 

Then  he  commanded  two  palanquins  to  be  prepared 
and  men  in  readiness  to  carry  them,  and  said,  "  Let 
the  girl  be  married  to  the  young  Rajah,  and  let  both  be 
taken  far  away  into  the  jungle,  that  we  may  never  see 
them  more.  Then  there  will  be  quiet  in  the  land 
again." 


176  Old  Deccan  Days. 

The  Ranee,  Panch-Phul  Ranee's  mother,  cried  bit- 
terly at  this,  for  she  was  very  fond  of  her  daughter,  and 
she  begged  her  husband  not  to  send  her  away  so 
cruelly — the  living  with  the  dead  ;  but  the  Rajah  was 
inexorable.  "  That  poor  boy  died,"  he  said  :  "  let  my 
daughter  die  too.  I'll  have  no  more  men  killed  here/ 

So  the  two  palanquins  were  prepared.  Then  he 
placed  his  daughter  in  the  one,  and  her  dead  husband 
in  the  other,  and  said  to  the  palkee-bearers,  "  Take 
these  palkees  and  go  out  into  the  jungle  until  you  have 
reached  a  place  so  desolate  that  not  so  much  as  a  spar- 
row is  to  be  seen,  and  there  leave  them  both." 

And  so  they  did.  Deep  down  in  the  jungle,  where 
no  bright  sun  could  pierce  the  darkness,  nor  human 
voice  be  heard,  far  from  any  habitation  of  man  or 
means  of  supporting  life,  on  the  edge  of  a  dank,  stag- 
nant morass  that  was  shunned  by  all  but  noisome  rep- 
tiles and  wandering  beasts  of  prey,  they  set  them  down 
and  left  them,  the  dead  husband  and  the  living  wife, 
alone  to  meet  the  horrors  of  the  coming  night — alone, 
without  a  chance  of  rescue. 

Panch-Phul  Ranee  heard  the  bearers'  retreating  foot- 
steps, and  their  voices  getting  fainter  and  fainter  in  the 
distance,  and  felt  that  she  had  nothing  to  hope  for 
but  death. 

Night  seemed  coming  on  apace,  for  though  the  sun 
had  not  set,  the  jungle  was  so  dark  that  but  little  light 
pierced  the  gloom  ;  and  she  thought  she  would  take  a 
last  look  at  the  husband  her  vow  had  killed,  and  sitting 
beside  him  wait  till  starvation  should  make  her  as  he 
was,  or  some  wild  animal  put  a  more  speedy  end  to 
her  sufferings. 

She  left  her  palkee   and   went  toward  his.     There 


Panch-Phul  Ranee.  177 

he  lay  with  closed  eyes  and  close-shut  lips  :  black  cur- 
ling hair,  which  escaped  from  under  his  turban,  con- 
cealed a  ghastly  wound  on  his  temple.  There  was  no 
look  of  pain  on  the  face,  and  the  long,  sweeping  eye- 
lashes gave  it  such  a  tender,  softened  expression  she 
could  hardly  believe  that  he  was  dead.  He  was,  in 
truth,  very  beautiful ;  and  watching  him  she  said  to 
herself,  "  Alas,  what  a  noble  being  is  here  lost  to  the 
world  !  what  an  earth's  joy  is  extinguished !  Was  it 
for  this  that  I  was  cold,  and  proud,  and  stern — to  break 
the  cup  of  my  own  happiness  and  to  be  the  death  of 
such  as  you  ?  Must  you  now  never  know  that  you  won 
your  wife  ?  Must  you  never  hear  her  ask  your  pardon 
for  the  past,  nor  know  her  cruel  punishment?  Ah,  if 
you  had  but  lived,  how  dearly  I  would  have  loved  you  ! 
Oh  my  husband  !  my  husband  !"  And  sinking  down 
on  the  ground,  she  buried  her  face  in  her  hands  and 
cried  bitterly. 

While  she  was  sitting  thus  night  closed  ovet  the 
jungle,  and  brought  with  it  wild  beasts  that  had  left 
their  dens  and  lairs  in  search  of  prey — to  roam  about, 
as  the  heat  of  the  day  was  over.  Tigers,  lions,  ele- 
phants and  bison,  all  came  by  turns  crushing  through 
the  underwood  which  surrounded  the  place  where  the 
palkees  were,  but  they  did  no  harm  to  Panch-Phul 
Ranee,  for  she  was  so  fair  that  not  even  the  cruel 
beasts  of  the  forest  would  injure  her.  At  last,  about 
four  o'clock  in  the  morning,  all  the  wild  animals  had 
gone,  except  two  little  jackals,  who  had  been  very  busy 
watching  the  rest  and  picking  the  bones  left  by  the 
tigers.  Tired  with  running  about,  they  lay  down  to 
rest  close  to  the  palkees.  Then  one  little  jackal  said 
to  the  other,  who  was  her  husband,  "  Do  tell  me  a 
H» 


178  Old  Deccan  Days. 

little  story."  "  Dear  me  !"  he  exclaimed,  "  what  people 
you  women  are  for  stories !  Well,  look  just  in  front 
of  you  ;  do  you  see  those  two  ?"  "  Yes,"  she  answered  ; 
"  what  of  them  ?"  "  That  woman  you  see  sitting  on 
the  ground,"  he  said,  "is  the  Panch-Phul  Ranee." 
"  And  what  son  of  a  Rajah  is  the  man  in  the  palkee  ?" 
asked  she.  "  That,"  he  replied,  "  is  a  very  sorrowful 
son.  His  father  was  so  unkind  to  him  that  he  left  his 
own  home,  and  went  to  live  in  another  country  very  far 
from  this ;  and  there  he  dreamed  about  the  Panch-Phul 
Ranee,  and  came  to  our  land  in  order  to  marry  her, 
but  he  was  killed  in  jumping  the  seventh  hedge  of 
spears,  and  all  he  gained  was  to  die  for  her  sake." 

"  That  is  very  sad,"  said  the  first  little  jackal ;  "  but 
could  he  never  by  any  chance  come  to  life  again?" 
"  Yes,"  answered  the  other ;  "  may  be  he  could,  if  only 
some  one  knew  how  to  apply  the  proper  remedies." 
"  What  are  the  proper  remedies,  and  how  could  he  be 
cured  ?"  asked  the  lady  jackal.  (Now  all  this  conver- 
sation had  been  heard  by  Panch-Phul  Ranee,  and  when 
this  question  was  asked  she  listened  very  eagerly  and 
attentively  for  the  answer.) 

"  Do  you  see  this  tree  ?"  replied  her  husband.  "  Well, 
if  some  of  its  leaves  were  crushed,  and  a  little  of  the 
juice  put  into  the  Rajah's  two  ears  and  upon  his  upper 
lip,  and  some  upon  his  temples  also,  and  some  upon 
the  spear-wounds  in  his  side,  he  would  come  to  life 
again  and  be  as  well  as  ever." 

At  this  moment  day  dawned,  and  the  two  little 
jackals  ran  away.  Panch-Phul  Ranee  did  not  forget 
their  words.  She,  a  Princess  born,  who  had  never  put 
her  foot  to  the  ground  before  (so  delicately  and  ten- 
derly had  she  been  reared),  walked  over  the  rough 


Panch-Phul  Ranee.  179 

clods  of  earth  and  the  sharp  stones  till  she  reached  the 
place  where  the  tree  grew  of  which  the  jackals  had 
spoken.  She  gathered  a  number  of  its  leaves,  and, 
with  hands  and  feet  that  had  never  before  done  coarse 
or  common  work,  beat  and  crushed  them  down.  They 
were  so  stiff  and  strong  that  it  took  her  a  long  time. 
At  last,  after  tearing  them,  and  stamping  on  them,  and 
pounding  them  between  two  stones,  and  biting  the 
hardest  parts,  she  thought  they  were  sufficiently 
crushed ;  and  rolling  them  up  in  a  corner  of  her  saree, 
she  squeezed  the  juice  through  it  on  to  her  husband's 
temples,  and  put  a  little  on  his  upper  lip  and  into  his 
ears,  and  some  also  on  the  spear-wound  in  his  side. 
And  when  she  had  done  this,  he  awoke  as  if  he  had 
been  only  sleeping,  and  sat  up,  wondering  where  he 
was.  Before  him  stood  Panch-Phul  Ranee  shining 
like  a  glorious  star,  and  all  around  them  was  the  dark 
jungle. 

It  would  be  hard  to  say  which  of  them  was  the  most 
astonished — the  Rajah  or  the  Princess.  She  was  sur- 
prised that  the  remedy  should  have  taken  such  speedy 
effect,  and  could  hardly  believe  her  eyes  when  she  saw 
her  husband  get  up.  And  if  he  looked  beautiful  when 
dead,  much  more  handsome  did  he  seem  to  her  now, 
so  full  of  life  and  animation  and  power — the  picture  of 
health  and  strength.  And  he  in  his  turn  was  lost  in 
amazement  at  the  exquisite  loveliness  of  the  lady  who 
stood  before  him.  He  did  not  know  who  she  could  be, 
for  he  had  never  seen  her  like  except  in  a  dream. 
Could  she  be  really  the  world-renowned  Panch-Phul 
Ranee,  or  was  he  dreaming  still  ?  He  feared  to  move 
lest  he  should  break  the  spell.  But  as  he  sat  there 
wondering,  she  spoke,  saying,  "  You  marvel  at  what 


i8o  Old  Deccan  Days. 

has  taken  place.  You  do  not  know,  me — I  am  Pauch- 
Phul  Ranee,  your  wife." 

Then  he  said,  "  Ah,  Princess,  is  it  indeed  you  ?  You 
have  been  very  hard  to  me."  "  I  know,  I  know,"  she 
answered  ;  "  I  caused  your  death,  but  I  brought  you  to 
life  again.  Let  the  past  be  forgotten ;  come  home 
with  me,  and  my  father  and  mother  will  welcome  you 
as  a  son." 

He  replied,  "No,  I  must  first  return  to  my  own 
home  a  while.  Do  you  rather  return  there  now  with 
me,  for  it  is  a  long  time  since  I  left  it,  and  afterward 
we  will  come  again  to  your  father's  kingdom." 

To  this  Panch-Phul  Ranee  agreed.  It  took  them, 
however,  a  long  time  to  find  their  way  out  of  the 
jungle.  At  last  they  succeeded  in  doing  so,  for  none 
of  the  wild  animals  in  it  attempted  to  injure  them,  so 
beautiful  and  royal  did  they  both  look. 

When  they  reached  the  banyan  tree,  where  the 
Rajah  had  left  the  two  parrots,  the  old  parrot  called 
out  to  him,  "  So  you  have  come  back  at  last !  We 
thought  you  never  would,  you  were  such  a  long  time 
away  1  There  you  went,  leaving  us  here  all  the  time, 
and  after  all  doing  no  good,  but  only  getting  yourself 
killed.  Why  didn't  you  do  as  we  advised  you,  and 
jump  up  nicely?" 

"  Well,  I'm  sure,"  said  the  Rajah,  "  yours  is  a  hard 
case ;  but  I  beg  your  pardon  for  keeping  you  waiting 
so  long,  and  now  I  hope  you'll  take  me  and  my  wife 
home." 

"  Yes,  we  will  do  that,"  answered  the  parrots ;  "  but 
you  had  better  get  some  dinner  first,  for  it's  a  long 
journey  over  the  seven  seas." 

So  the  Rajah  went  to  the  village  close  by  and  bought 


Panch-Phul  Ranee.  181 

food  for  himself  and  the  Panch-Phul  Ranee.  When 
he  returned  with  it,  he  said  to  her,  "  I  fear  th^  long 
journey  before  us  for  you  :  had  you  not  better  let  me 
make  it  alone,  and  return  here  for  you  when  it  is  over  ?"* 
But  she  answered,  "  No !  what  could  I,  a  poor,  weak 
woman,  do  here  alone?  and  I  will  not  return  to  my 
father's  house  till  you  can  come  too.  Take  me  with 
you,  however  far  you  go ;  only  promise  me  you  will 
never  leave  me."  So  he  promised  her,  and  they  both, 
mounting  the  parrots,  were  carried  up  in  the  air  across 
the  seven  seas,  across  the  Red  Sea,  on,  on,  on,  a  whole 
year's  journey,  until  they  reached  his  father's  kingdom, 
and  alighted  to  rest  at  the  foot  of  the  palace  garden. 
The  Rajah,  however,  did  not  know  where  he  was,  for 
all  had  much  changed  since  he  left  it  some  years 
before. 

Then  a  little  son  was  born  to  the  Rajah  and  Panch- 
Phul  Ranee.  He  was  a  beautiful  child,  but  his  father 
was  grieved  to  think  that  in  that  bleak  place  there  was 
no  shelter  for  the  mother  or  the  baby.  So  he  said  to 
his  wife,  "  I  will  go  to  fetch  food  for  us  both,  and  fire 
to  cook  it  with,  and  inquire  what  this  country  is,  and 
seek  out  a  place  of  rest  for  you.  Do  not  be  afraid ;  I 
shall  soon  return."  Now,  far  off  in  the  distance  smcke 
was  to  be  seen  rising  from  tents  which  belonged  tc 
some  conjurors  and  dancing-people,  and  thither  the 
Rajah  bent  his  steps,  feeling  certain  he  should  be  able 
to  get  fire,  and  perhaps  food  also,  from  the  inhabitants. 
When  he  got  there,  he  found  the  place  was  much 
larger  than  he  had  expected — quite  a  good-sized  village 
in  fact — the  abode  of  Nautch-people  and  conjurors. 
In  all  the  houses  the  people  were  busy,  some  dancing, 
some  singing,  others  trying  various  conjuring  tricks  or 
18 


«8a  Old  Deccan  Days. 

practising  beating  the  drum,  and  all  seemed  happy  and 
joyful. 

When  the  conjurors  saw  him,  they  were  so  much 
struck  with  his  appearance  (for  he  was  very  handsome) 
that  they  determined  to  make  him,  if  possible,  stay 
among  them  and  join  their  band.  And  they  said  one 
to  another,  "  How  well  he  would  look  beating  the 
drum  for  the  dancers !  All  the  world  would  come  to 
see  us  dance,  if  we  had  such  a  handsome  man  as  that 
to  beat  the  drum." 

The  Rajah,  unconscious  of  their  intentions,  went  into 
the  largest  hut  he  saw,  and  said  to  a  woman  who  was 
grinding  corn,  "  Bai,*  give  me  a  little  rice,  and  some 
fire  from  your  hearth."  She  immediately  consented, 
and  got  up  to  fetch  the  burning  sticks  he  asked  for ; 
but  before  she  gave  them  to  him,  she  and  her  com- 
panions threw  upon  them  a  certain  powder,  containing 
a  very  potent  charm  ;  and  no  sooner  did  the  Rajah  re- 
ceive them  than  he  forgot  about  his  wife  and  little  child, 
his  journey,  and  all  that  had  ever  happened  to  him  in 
his  life  before ;  such  was  the  peculiar  property  of  the 
powder.  And  when  the  conjurors  said  to  him,  "  Why 
should  you  go  away  ?  stay  with  us,  and  be  one  of  us," 
he  willingly  consented  to  do  so. 

All  this  time  Panch-Phul  Ranee  waited  and  waited 
for  her  husband,  but  he  never  came.  Night  approached 
without  his  having  brought  her  any  food  or  news  of 
having  found  a  place  of  shelter  for  her  and  the  baby. 
At  last,  faint  and  weary,  she  swooned  away. 

It  happened  that  that  very  day  the  Ranee  (Panch- 
Phul  Ranee's  husband's  mother)  lost  her  youngest  child, 
a  fine  little  boy  of  only  a  day  old ;  and  her  servants 
*  Woman. 


Panch-Phul  Ranee.  183 

took  its  body  to  the  bottom  of  the  garden  to  bury  it. 
Just  as  they  were  going  to  do  so,  they  heard  a  low  cry, 
and,  looking  round,  saw  close  by  a  beautiful  woman 
lying  on  the  ground,  dead,  or  apparently  so,  and  beside 
her  a  fine  little  baby  boy.  The  idea  immediately 
entered  their  heads  of  leaving  the  dead  baby  beside  the 
dead  woman,  and  taking  her  living  baby  back  with 
them  to  the  palace  ;  and  so  they  did. 

When  they  returned,  they  said  to  their  mistress,  "Your 
child  did  not  die  ;  see  here  it  is — it  got  well  again,"  and 
showed  her  Panch-Phul  Ranee's  baby ;  but  after  a  time, 
when  the  Ranee  questioned  them  about  it,  they  told  her 
the  whole  truth,  but  she  had  become  meanwhile  very 
fond  of  the  little  boy,  and  so  he  continued  in  the  palace 
and  was  brought  up  as  her  son ;  being,  in  truth,  her 
grandson,  though  she  did  not  know  it. 

Meantime  the  palace  Malee's  wife  went  out,  as  her 
custom  was  every  morning,  and  evening,  to  gather 
flowers.  In  search  of  them  she  wandered  as  far  as  the 
jungle  at  the  bottom  of  the  garden,  and  there  she  found 
the  Panch-Phul  Ranee  lying  as  dead,  and  the  dead 
baby  beside  her. 

The  good  woman  felt  very  sorry,  and  rubbed  the 
Ranee's  cold  hands  and  gave  her  sweet  flowers  to  smell, 
in  hopes  that  she  might  revive.  At  last  she  opened  her 
eyes,  and  seeing  the  Malee's  wife,  said,  "  Where  am  I  ? 
has  not  my  husband  come  back  ?  and  who  are  you  ?" 

"  My  poor  lady,"  answered  the  Malee's  wife,  "  I  do 
not  know  where  your  husband  is.  I  am  the  Malee's 
wife,  and  coming  here  to  gather  flowers,  I  found  you 
lying  on  the  ground,  and  this  your  little  baby,  which  is 
dead ;  but  come  home  with  me,  I  will  take  care  of  you." 

Panch-Phul  Ranee  answered,  "  Kind  friend,  this  is 


184  Old  Dcccan  Days. 

not  my  baby  ;  he  did  not  die  ;  he  was  the  image  of  his 
father,  and  fairer  than  this  child.  Some  one  must  have 
taken  him  away,  for  but  a  little  while  ago  I  held  him 
in  my  arms,  and  he  was  strong  and  well,  while  this 
one  could  never  have  been  more  than  a  puny,  weakly 
infant.  Take  me  away  ;  I  will  go  home  with  you." 

So  the  Malee's  wife  buried  the  dead  child  and  tock 
the  Panch-Phul  Ranee  to  her  house,  where  she  lived 
for  fourteen  years ;  but  all  that  time  she  could  learn  no 
tidings  of  her  husband  or  her  lost  little  boy.  The  child, 
meanwhile,  grew  up  in  the  palace,  and  became  a  very 
handsome  youth.  One  day  he  was  wandering  round 
the  garden  and  chanced  to  pass  the  Malee's  house. 
The  Panch-Phul  Ranee  was  sitting  within,  watching 
the  Malee's  wife  cook  their  dinner. 

The  young  Prince  saw  her,  and  calling  the  Malee's 
wife,  said  to  her,  "  What  beautiful  lady  is  that  in  your 
house?  and  how  did  she  come  there?"  She  answered, 
"  Little  Prince,  what  nonsense  you  talk !  there  is  no 
lady  here."  He  said  again,  "  I  know  there  is  a  beauti- 
ful lady  here,  for  I  saw  her  as  I  passed  the  open  door." 
She  replied,  "  If  you  come  telling  such  tales  about  my 
house,  I'll  pull  your  tongue  out."  For  she  thought  to 
herself,  "  Unless  I  scold  him  well,  the  boy  '11  go  talking 
about  what  he's  seen  in  the  palace,  and  then  perhaps 
some  of  the  people  from  there  will  come  and  take  the 
poor  Panch-Phul  Ranee  away  from  my  care."  But 
whilst  the  Malee's  wife  was  talking  to  the  young  Prince, 
the  Panch-Phul  Ranee  came  from  the  inner  room  to 
watch  and  listen  to  him  unobserved  ;  and  no  sooner  did 
she  see  him  than  she  could  not  forbear  crying  out,  "  Oh, 
how  like  he  is  to  my  husband !  The  same  eyes,  the 
same  shaped  face  and  the  same  king-like  bearing !  Can 


Panch-Phul  Ranee.  185 

fie  be  my  son  ?  He  is  just  the  age  my  son  would  have 
been  had  he  lived." 

The  young  Prince  heard  her  speaking  and  asked 
what  she  said,  to  which  the  Malee's  wife  replied,  "The 
woman  you  saw,  and  who  just  now  spoke,  lost  her 
child  fourteen  years  ago,  and  she  was  saying  to  herself 
how  like  you  were  to  that  child,  and  thinking  you  must 
be  the  same  ;  but  she  is  wrong,  for  we  know  you  are  the 
Ranee's  son."  Then  Panch-Phul  Ranee  herself  came 
out  of  the  house,  and  said  to  him,  "Young  Prince,  I 
could  not,  when  I  saw  you,  help  exclaiming  how  like 
you  are  to  what  my  lost  husband  was,  and  to  what  my 
son  might  have  been  ;  for  it  is  now  fourteen  years  since 
I  lost  them  both."  And  she  told  him  how  she  had  been 
a  great  Princess,  and  was  returning  with  her  husband 
to  his  own  home  (to  which  they  had  got  halfway  in 
reaching  that  place),  and  how  her  little  baby  had  been 
born  in  the  jungle,  and  her  husband  had  gone  away  to 
seek  shelter  for  her  and  the  child,  and  fire  and  food, 
and  had  never  returned  ;  and  also  how,  when  she  had 
fainted  away,  some  one  had  certainly  stolen  her  baby 
and  left  a  dead  child  in  its  place ;  and  how  the  good 
Malee's  wife  had  befi  iended  her,  and  taken  her  ever 
since  to  live  in  her  house.  And  when  she  had  ended 
her  story  she  began  to  cry. 

But  the  Prince  said  to  her,  "  Be  of  good  cheer ;  I  will 
endeavor  to  recover  your  husband  and  child  for  you : 
who  knows  but  I  may  indeed  be  your  son,  beautiful 
lady  ?"  And  running  home  to  the  Ranee  (his  adopted 
mother),  he  said  to  her,  "Are  you  really  my  mother? 
Tell  me  truly  ;  for  this  I  must  know  before  the  sun  goes 
down."  "Why  do  you  ask  foolish  questions?"  she 
replied;  "have  I  not  always  treated  you  as  a  son?" 


1 86  Old  Deccan  Days. 

"  Yes,"  he  said  ;  "  but  tell  me  the  very  truth,  am  I  youi 
own  child,  or  the  child  of  some  one  else,  adopted  as 
yours?  If  you  do  not  tell  me,  I  will  kill  myself."  And 
so  saying,  he  drew  his  sword.  She  replied,  "  Stay,  stay, 
and  I  will  tell  you  the  whole  truth  :  the  day  before  you 
were  born  I  had  a  little  baby,  but  it  died  ;  and  my  ser- 
vants took  it  to  the  bottom  of  the  garden  to  bury  it,  and 
there  they  found  a  beautiful  woman  lying  as  dead,  and 
beside  her  a  living  infant.  You  were  that  child.  They 
brought  you  to  the  palace,  and  I  adopted  you  as  my  son, 
and  left  my  baby  in  your  stead."  "  What  became  of 
my  mother?  "  he  asked.  "  I  cannot  tell,"  answered  the 
Ranee ;  "  for,  two  days  afterward,  when  I  sent  to  the 
same  place,  she  and  the  baby  had  both  disappeared,  and 
I  have  never  since  heard  of  her." 

The  young  Prince,  on  hearing  this,  said,  "  There  is 
in  the  head  Malee's  house  a  beautiful  lady,  whom  the 
Malee's  wife  found  in  the  jungle,  fourteen  years  ago ; 
that  must  be  my  mother.  Let  her  be  received  here  this 
very  day  with  all  honor,  for  that  is  the  only  reparation 
that  can  now  be  made  to  her." 

The  Ranee  consented,  and  the  young  Prince  went 
down  to  the  Malee's  house  himself  to  fetch  his  mother 
to  the  palace. 

With  him  he  took  a  great  retinue  of  people,  and  a 
oeautiful  palanquin  for  her  to  go  in,  covered  with  rich 
trappings ;  also  costly  things  for  her  to  wear,  and  many 
iewels  and  presents  for  the  good  Malee's  wife. 

When  Panch-Phul  Ranee  had  put  on  her  son's  gifts, 
and  come  out  of  the  Malee's  poor  cottage  to  meet  him, 
all  the  people  said  there  had  never  been  so  royal-looking 
a  queen.  As  gold  and  clear  crystal  are  lovely,  as 
mother-of-pearl  is  exquisitely  fair  and  delicate-looking, 


Panch-Phul  Ranee.  187 

so  beautiful,  so  fair,  so  delicate  appeared  Panch-Phu1 
Ranee. 

Her  son  conducted  her  with  much  pomp  and  state  to 
the  palace,  and  did  all  in  his  power  to  honor  her ;  and 
there  she  lived  long  very  happily,  and  beloved  by  all. 

One  day  the  young  Prince  begged  her  to  tell  him 
again,  from  the  beginning,  the  story  of  her  life,  and  as 
much  as  she  knew  of  his  father's  life ;  and  so  she  did. 
And  after  that,  he  said  to  her,  "  Be  no  longer  sad,  dear 
mother,  regarding  my  father's  fate  ;  for  I  will  send  into 
all  lands  to  gather  tidings  of  him,  and  maybe  in  the 
end  we  shall  find  him."  And  he  sent  people  out  to 
hunt  for  the  Rajah  all  over  the  kingdom,  and  in  all 
neighboring  countries — to  the  north,  to  the  south,  to  the 
east  and  to  the  west — but  they  found  him  not. 

At  last  (after  four  years  of  unsuccessful  search),  when 
there  seemed  no  hope  of  ever  learning  what  had  become 
of  him,  Panch-Phul  Ranee's  son  came  to  see  her,  and 
said,  "Mother,  I  have  sent  into  all  lands  seeking  my 
father,  but  can  hear  no  news  of  him.  If  there  were 
only  the  slightest  clue  as  to  the  direction  in  which  he 
went,  there  would  still  be  some  chance  of  tracing  him, 
but  that,  I  fear,  cannot  be  got.  Do  you  not  remember 
his  having  said  anything  of  the  way  which  he  intended 
to  go  when  he  left  you  ?  "  She  answered,  "  When  your 
father  went  away,  his  words  to  me  were,  '  I  will  go  to 
fetch  food  for  us  both,  and  fire  to  cook  it  with,  and 
inquire  what  this  country  is,  and  seek  out  a  place  of 
shelter  for  you.  Do  not  be  afraid — I  shall  soon  return.' 
That  was  all  he  said,  and  then  he  went  away,  and  I 
never  saw  him  more." 

"  In  what  direction  did  he  go  from  the  foot  of  the 
garden  ?  "  asked  the  Prince.  "  He  went,"  answered  the 


i88  Old  Deccan  Days. 

Panch-Phul  Ranee,  "  toward  that  village  of  conjurors 
close  by.  I  thought  he  was  intending  to  ask  some  of 
them  to  give  us  food.  But  had  he  done  so,  he  would 
certainly  have  returned  in  a  very  short  time." 

"  Do  you  think  you  should  know  my  father,  mother 
darling,  if  you  were  to  see  him  again?"  asked  the 
Prince.  "  Yes,"  answered  she,  "  I  should  know  him 
again."  "  What !  "  he  said,  "  even  though  eighteen 
years  have  gone  by  since  you  saw  him  last?  Even 
though  age  and  sickness  and  want  had  done  their 
utmost  to  change  him  ?  "  "  Yes  !  "  she  replied  ;  "  his 
every  feature  is  so  impressed  on  my  heart  that  I  should 
know  him  again  anywhere  or  in  any  disguise." 

"  Then  let  us,"  he  said,  "  send  for  all  those  people 
in  the  direction  of  whose  houses  he  went  away.  Maybe 
they  have  detained  him  among  them  to  this  day.  It  is 
but  a  chance,  but  we  can  hope  for  nothing  more  certain." 

So  the  Panch-Phul  Ranee  and  her  son  sent  down 
orders  to  the  conjurors'  village  that  every  one  of  the 
whole  band  should  come  up  to  the  palace  that  after- 
noon— not  a  soul  was  to  stay  behind.  And  the  dancers 
were  to  dance  and  the  conjurors  to  play  all  their  tricks 
for  the  amusement  of  the  palace  inmates. 

The  people  came.  The  nautch  girls  began  to  dance — 
running,  jumping  and  flying  here,  there  and  everywhere, 
some  up,  some  down,  some  round  and  round.  The  con- 
jurors conjured  and  all  began  in  different  ways  to  amuse 
the  company.  Among  the  rest  was  one  wild,  ragged- 
looking  man,  whose  business  was  to  beat  the  drum. 
No  sooner  did  the  Panch-Phul  Ranee  set  eyes  on  him 
than  she  said  to  her  son,  "  Boy,  that  is  your  father ! " 
"  What,  mother  !  "  he  said,  "  that  wretched-looking  man 
who  is  beat'ng  the  drum  ? "  "  The  same,"  she  answered. 


Panch-Phul  Ranee.  189 

The  Prince  said  to  his  servants,  "  Fetch  that  man 
here."  And  the  Rajah  came  toward  them,  so  changed 
that  not  even  his  own  mother  knew  him — no  one  re- 
cognized him  but  his  wife.  For  eighteen  years  he  had 
been  among  the  nautch  people  ;  his  hair  was  rough,  his 
beard  untrimmed,  his  face  thin  and  worn,  sunburnt  and 
wrinkled ;  he  wore  a  nose-ring  and  heavy  ear-rings, 
such  as  the  nautch  people  have ;  and  his  dress  was  a 
rough,  common  cumlee.*  All  traces  of  his  former  self 
seemed  to  have  disappeared.  They  asked  him  if  he 
did  not  remember  he  had  been  a  Rajah  once,  and  about 
his  journey  to  Panch-Phul  Ranee's  country.  But  he 
said,  No,  he  remembered  nothing  but  how  to  beat  the 
drum — Rub-a-dub  !  tat-tat !  tom-tum  !  tom-tum  !  He 
thought  he  must  have  beaten  it  all  his  life. 

Then  the  young  Prince  gave  orders  that  all  the 
nautch  people  should  be  put  into  jail  until  it  could  be 
discovered  what  part  they  had  taken  in  reducing  his 
father  to  so  pitiable  a  state.  And  sending  for  the 
wisest  doctors  in  the  kingdom,  he  said  to  them,  "  Do 
your  best  and  restore  the  health  of  this  Rajah,  who  has 
to  all  appearance  lost  both  memory  and  reason ;  and 
discover,  if  possible,  what  has  caused  these  misfortunes 
to  befall  him."  The  doctors  said,  "He  has  certainly 
had  some  potent  charm  given  to  him,  which  has  de- 
stroyed both  his  memory  and  reason,  but  we  will  do 
our  best  to  counteract  its  influence." 

And  so  they  did.  And  their  treatment  succeeded  so 
well  that,  after  a  time,  the  Rajah  entirely  recovered  his 
former  senses.  And  they  took  such  good  care  of  him 
that  in  a  little  while  he  regained  his  health  and  strengh 
also,  and  looked  almost  as  well  as  ever. 
*  A  coarse  woolen  blanket. 


190  Old  Deccan  Days. 

He  then  found  to  his  surprise  that  he,  Panch-Phul 
Ranee,  and  their  son,  had  all  this  time  been  living  in 
his  father's  kingdom.  His  father  was  so  delighted  to 
see  him  again  that  he  was  no  longer  unkind  to  him, 
but  treated  him  as  a  dearly  beloved,  long-lost  son.  His 
mother  also  was  overjoyed  at  his  return,  and  they  said 
to  him,  "  Since  you  have  been  restored  to  us  again, 
why  should  you  wander  any  more?  Your  wife  and 
son  are  here ;  do  you  also  remain  here,  and  live  among 
us  for  the  rest  of  your  days."  But  he  replied,  "  I  have 
another  wife — the  Carpenter's  daughter — who  first  was 
kind  to  me  in  my  adopted  country.  I  also  have  there 
nine  hundred  and  ninety-eight  talking  wooden  parrots, 
which  I  greatly  prize.  Let  me  first  go  and  fetch 
them." 

They  said,  "  Very  well ;  go  quickly  and  then  re- 
turn." So  he  mounted  the  two  wooden  parrots  which 
had  brought  him  from  the  Panch-Phul  Ranee's  coun- 
try (and  which  had  for  eighteen  years  lived  in  the  jun- 
gle close  to  the  palace),  and  returned  to  the  land  where 
his  first  wife  lived,  and  fetched  her  and  the  nine  hun- 
dred and  ninety-eight  remaining  wooden  parrots  to  his 
father's  kingdom.  Then  his  father  said  to  him,  "  Don't 
have  any  quarreling  with  your  half-brother  after  I  am 
dead  (for  his  half-brother  was  son  of  the  old  Rajah's 
favorite  wife).  "  I  love  you  both  dearly,  and  will  give 
each  of  you  half  of  my  kingdom."  So  he  divided  the 
kingdom  into  two  halves,  and  gave  the  one  half  to  the 
Panch-Phul  Ranee's  husband,  who  was  the  son  of  his 
first  wife,  and  the  other  half  to  the  eldest  son  of  his 
second  but  favorite  wife. 

A  short  time  after  this  arrangement  was  made, 
Panch-Phul  Ranee  said  to  her  husband,  "I  wish  to 


Panch-Phul  Ranee.  191 

see  my  father  and  mother  again  before  I  die  ;  let  me  go 
and  see  them."  He  answered,  "You  shall  go,  and  I 
and  our  son  will  also  go."  So  he  called  four  of  the 
wooden  parrots — two  to  carry  himself  and  the  Ranee, 
and  two  to  carry  their  son.  Each  pair  of  parrots 
crossed  their  wings ;  the  young  Prince  sat  upon  the 
two  wings  of  one  pair,  and  on  the  wings  of  the  other 
pair  sat  his  father  and  mother.  Then  they  all  rose  up 
in  the  air,  and  the  parrots  carried  them  (as  they  had 
before  carried  the  Rajah  alone),  up,  up,  up,  on,  on, 
on,  over  the  Red  Sea,  and  across  the  seven  seas,  until 
they  reached  the  Panch-Phul  Ranee's  country. 

Panch-Phul  Ranee's  father  saw  them  come  flying 
through  the  air  as  quickly  as  shooting  stars,  and  much 
wondering  who  they  were,  he  sent  out  many  of  his  no- 
bles and  chief  officers  to  inquire. 

The  nobles  went  out  to  meet  them,  and  called  out, 
"  What  great  Rajah  is  this  who  is  dressed  so  royally, 
and  comes  flying  through  the  air  so  fast  ?  Tell  us,  that 
we  may  tell  our  Rajah." 

The  Rajah  answered,  "  Go  and  tell  your  master  that 
this  is  Panch-Phul  Ranee's  husband,  come  to  visit  his 
father-in-law."  So  they  took  that  answer  back  to  the 
palace,  but  when  the  Rajah  heard  it,  he  said,  "  I  can- 
not tell  what  this  means,  for  the  Panch-Phul  Ranee's 
husband  died  long  ago.  It  is  twenty  years  since  he 
fell  upon  the  iron  spears  and  died ;  let  us,  however,  all 
go  and  discover  who  this  great  Rajah  really  is."  And 
he  and  all  his  court  went  out  to  meet  the  new-comers, 
just  as  the  parrots  had  alighted  close  to  the  palace 
gate.  The  Panch-Phul  Ranee  took  her  son  by  the  one 
hand  and  her  husband  by  the  other,  and  walking  to 
meet  her  father,  said,  "  Father,  I  have  come  to  see  you 


193  Old  Deccan  Days. 

again.  This  is  my  husband  who  died,  and  this  boy  is 
my  son."  Then  all  the  land  was  glad  to  see  the 
Panch-Phul  Ranee  back,  and  the  people  said,  "  Our 
Princess  is  the  most  beautiful  Princess  in  the  world, 
and  her  husband  is  as  handsome  as  she  is,  and  her  son 
is  a  fair  boy ;  we  will  that  they  should  always  live 
among  us  and  reign  over  us." 

When  they  had  rested  a  little,  the  Panch-Phul 
Ranee  told  her  father  and  mother  the  story  of  all  her 
adventures  from  the  time  she  and  her  husband  were 
left  in  the  palkees  in  the  jungle.  And  when  they  had 
heard  it,  her  father  said  to  the  Rajah,  her  husband, 
"  You  must  never  go  away  again ;  for  see,  I  have  no 
son  but  you.  You  and  your  son  must  reign  here  after 
me.  And  behold  all  this  great  kingdom  will  I  now 
give  you,  if  you  will  only  stay  with  us ;  for  I  am  old 
and  weary  of  governing  the  land." 

But  the  Rajah  answered,  "  I  must  return  once  again 
to  my  own  country,  and  then  I  will  stay  with  you  as 
long  as  I  live." 

So,  leaving  the  Panch-Phul  Ranee  and  her  son  with 
the  old  Rajah  and  Ranee,  he  mounted  his  parrots  and 
once  more  returned  to  his  father's  land.  And  when  he 
had  reached  it,  he  said  to  his  mother,  "Mother,  my 
father-in-law  has  given  me  a  kingdom  ten  thousand 
times  larger  than  this.  So  I  have  but  returned  to  bid 
you  farewell  and  fetch  my  first  wife,  and  then  I  must 
go  back  to  live  in  that  other  land."  She  answered, 
"  Very  well ;  so  you  are  happy  anywhere,  I  am  happy 
too." 

He  then  said  to  his  half-brother,  "Brother,  my 
father-in-law  has  given  me  all  the  Panch-Phul  Ranee'f 
country,  which  is  very  far  away  ;  therefore  I  give  up  to 


Panch-Phul  Ranee.  193 

you  the  half  of  this  kingdom  that  my  father  gave  to 
me."  Then,  bidding  his  father  farewell,  he  took  the 
Carpenter's  daughter  back  with  him  (riding  through 
the  air  on  two  of  the  wooden  parrots,  and  followed  by 
the  rest)  to  the  Panch-Phul  Ranee's  country,  and 
there  he  and  his  two  wives  and  his  son  lived  very 
happily  all  their  mortal  days. 

ir  i 


HOW  THE   SUN,  THE   MOON  AND    THE  WIND 
WENT  OUT  TO  DINNER. 

ONE  day  the  Sun,  the  Moon  and  the  Wind  went 
out  to  dine  with  their  uncle  and  aunt,  the  Thun- 
der and  Lightning.  Their  mother  (one  of  the  most 
distant  Stars  you  see  far  up  in  the  sky)  waited  alone 
for  her  children's  return. 

Now  both  the  Sun  and  the  Wind  were  greedy  and 
selfish.  They  enjoyed  the  great  feast  that  had  been 
prepared  for  them,  without  a  thought  of  saving  any  of 
it  to  take  home  to  their  mother ;  but  the  gentle  Moon 
did  not  forget  her.  Of  every  dainty  dish  that  was 
brought  round  she  placed  a  small  portion  under  one  of 
her  beautiful  long  finger-nails,  that  the  Star  might  also 
have  a  share  in  the  treat.* 

On  their  return,  their  mother,  who  had  kept  watch 
for  them  all  night  long  with  her  little  bright  eye,  said, 
"  Well,  children,  what  have  you  brought  home  for 
me?"  Then  the  Sun  (who  was  eldest)  said,  "  I  have 
brought  nothing  home  for  you.  I  went  out  to  enjoy 
myself  with  my  friends,  not  to  fetch  a  dinner  for  my 
mother !"  And  the  Wind  said,  "  Neither  have  I  brought 
anything  home  for  you,  mother.  You  could  hardly 
expect  me  to  bring  a  collection  of  good  things  for  you, 
*  See  Notes  at  the  end. 


The  Sun,  the  Moon  and  the  Wind.          195 

whan  I  merely  went  out  for  my  own  pleasure."  But 
the  Moon  said,  "  Mother,  fetch  a  plate  ;  see  what  I  have 
brought  you."  And  shaking  her  hands  she  showered 
down  such  a  choice  dinner  as  never  was  seen  before. 

Then  the  Star  turned  to  the  Sun  and  spoke  thus : 
"  Because  you  went  out  to  amuse  yourself  with  your 
friends,  and  feasted  and  enjoyed  yourself  without  any 
thought  of  your  mother  at  home,  you  shall  be  cursed. 
Henceforth,  your  rays  shall  ever  be  hot  and  scorching, 
and  shall  burn  all  that  they  touch.  And  men  shall 
hate  you  and  cover  their  heads  when  you  appear." 

(And  that  is  why  the  Sun  is  so  hot  to  this  day.) 

Then  she  turned  to  the  Wind  and  said  :  "  You  also, 
who  forgot  your  mother  in  the  midst  of  your  selfish 
pleasures,  hear  your  doom.  You  shall  always  blow  in 
the  hot,  dry  weather,  and  shall  parch  and  shrivel  all 
living  things.  And  men  shall  detest  and  avoid  you 
from  this  very  time." 

(And  that  is  why  the  Wind  in  the  hot  weather  is 
still  so  disagreeable.) 

But  to  the  Moon  she  said  :  "  Daughter,  because  you 
remembered  your  mother,  and  kept  for  her  a  share  in 
your  own  enjoyment,  from  henceforth  you  shall  be 
ever  cool  and  calm  and  bright.  No  noxious  glare  shall 
accompany  your  pure  rays,  and  men  shall  always  call 
you  '  blessed.'  " 

(And  that  is  why  the  Moon's  light  is  so  soft  and  cooi 
and  beautiful  even  to  this  day.) 


XI. 

SINGH    RAJAH  AND    THE    CUNNING    LITTLE 
JACKALS. 

ONCE  upon  a  time,  in  a  great  jungle,  there  lived 
a  great  Lion.  He  was  Rajah  of  all  the  country 
round  ;  and  every  day  he  used  to  leave  his  den,  in  the 
deepest  shadow  of  the  rocks,  and  roar  with  a  loud, 
angry  voice ;  and  when  he  roared,  the  other  animals 
in  the  jungle,  who  were  all  his  subjects,  got  very  much 
frightened  and  ran  here  and  there ;  and  Singh  Rajah 
would  pounce  upon  them  and  kill  them,  and  gobble 
them  up  for  his  dinner. 

This  went  on  for  a  long,  long  time,  until,  at  last, 
there  were  no  living  creatures  left  in  the  jungle  but  two 
little  Jackals — a  Rajah  Jackal  and  a  Ranee  Jackal — 
husband  and  wife. 

A  very  hard  time  of  it  the  poor  little  Jackals  had, 
running  this  way  and  that  to  escape  the  terrible  Singh 
Rajah ;  and  every  day  the  little  Ranee  Jackal  would 
say  to  her  husband,  "  I  am  afraid  he  will  catch  us  to- 
day ;  do  you  hear  how  he  is  roaring  ?  Oh  dear !  oh 
dear  I"  And  he  would  answer  her,  "  Never  fear ;  I 
will  take  care  of  you.  Let  us  run  on  a  mile  or  two. 
Come,  come  quick,  quick,  quick."  And  they  would 
both  run  away  as  fast  as  they  could. 

194 


Singh  Rajah  and  the  Cunning  Jackals.      197 

After  some  time  spent  in  this  way,  they  found,  how- 
ever, one  fine  day,  that  the  Lion  was  so  close  upon  them 
that  they  could  not  escape.  Then  the  little  Ranee 
Jackal  said,  "  Husband,  husband,  I  feel  much  fright- 
ened. The  Singh  Rajah  is  so  angry  he  will  certainly 
kill  us  at  once.  What  can  we  do  ?"  But  he  answered, 
"  Cheer  up ;  we  can  save  ourselves  yet.  Come,  and 
I'll  show  you  how  we  may  manage  it." 

So  what  did  these  cunning  little  Jackals  do  but  they 
went  to  the  great  Lion's  den  ;  and  when  he  saw  them 
coming,  he  began  to  roar  and  shake  his  mane,  and  he 
said,  "  You  little  wretches,  come  and  be  eaten  at  once  ! 
I  have  had  no  dinner  for  three  whole  days,  and  all  that 
time  I  have  been  running  over  hill  and  dale  to  find 
you.  Ro-a-ar !  Ro-a-ar !  Come  and  be  eaten,  I  say !" 
and  he  lashed  his  tail  and  gnashed  his  teeth,  and  looked 
very  terrible  indeed.  Then  the  Jackal  Rajah,  creeping 
quite  close  up  to  him,  said,  "  Oh,  great  Singh  Rajah, 
we  all  know  you  are  our  master,  and  we  would  have 
come  at  your  bidding  long  ago ;  but  indeed,  sir,  there 
is  a  much  bigger  Rajah  even  than  you  in  this  jungle, 
and  he  tried  to  catch  hold  of  us  and  eat  us  up,  and 
frightened  us  so  much  that  we  were  obliged  to  run 
away." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  growled  Singh  Rajah. 
"  There  is  no  king  in  this  jungle  but  me !"  "  Ah, 
sire,"  answered  the  Jackal,  "  in  truth  one  would  think 
so,  for  you  are  very  dreadful.  Your  very  voice  is 
death.  But  it  is  as  we  say,  for  we,  with  our  own  eyes, 
have  seen  one  with  whom  you  could  not  compete — 
whose  equal  you  can  no  more  be  than  we  are  yours — 
whose  face  is  as  flaming  fire,  his  step  as  thunder,  and 
his  power  supreme."  "  It  is  impossible  1"  interrupted 


198  Old  Deccan  Uays. 

the  old  Lion  ;  "  but  show  me  this  Rajah  of  whom  you 
speak  so  much,  that  I  may  destroy  him  instantly  !" 

Then  the  little  Jackals  ran  on  before  him  until  they 
reached  a  great  well,  and  pointing  down  to  his  own 
reflection  in  the  water,  they  said,  "  See,  sire,  there 
lives  the  terrible  king  of  whom  we  spoke."  When 
Singh  Rajah  looked  down  the  well,  he  became  very 
angry,  for  he  thought  he  saw  another  Lion  there.  He 
roared  and  shook  his  great  mane,  and  the  shadow  Lion 
shook  his  and  looked  terribly  defiant.  At  last,  beside 
himself  with  rage  at  the  violence  of  his  opponent,  Singh 
Rajah  sprang  down  to  kill  him  at  once,  but  no  other 
Lion  was  there — only  the  treacherous  reflection  —and 
the  sides  of  the  well  were  so  steep  that  he  couM  not 
get  out  again  to  punish  the  two  Jackals,  who  peeped 
over  the  top.  After  struggling  for  some  time  in  the 
deep  water,  he  sank  to  rise  no  more.  And  the  little 
Jackal  threw  stones  down  upon  him  from  abovr ,  and 
danced  round  and  round  the  well,  singing,  "  Ao  !  Ao  ! 
Ao  !  Ao  !  The  King  of  the  Forest  is  dead,  is  dead ! 
We  have  killed  the  great  Lion  who  would  have  killed 
us !  Ao  !  Ao  !  Ao  !  Ao  !  Ring-a-ting — ding-a-tmg  I 
Ring-a-ting — ding-a-ting !  Ao  !  Ao !  Ao  1"* 

*  See  Notes  at  the  end. 


XII. 

THE  JACKAL,  THE  BARBER  AND   THE  BRAH 
MIN  WHO  HAD  SEVEN  DAUGHTERS. 

A  BARBER  and  a  Jackal  once  struck  up  a  great 
friendship,  which  might  have  continued  to  this 
day,  had  not  the  Jackal  been  so  clever  that  the  Barber 
never  felt  quite  on  equal  terms  with  him,  and  suspected 
his  friend  of  playing  him  many  tricks.  But  this  he 
was  not  able  to  prove. 

One  day  the  Jackal  said  to  the  Barber,  "  It  would  be 
a  nice  thing  for  us  to  have  a  garden  of  our  own,  in 
which  we  might  grow  as  many  cucumbers,  pumpkins 
and  melons  as  we  like.  Why  should  we  not  buy 
one?" 

The  Barber  answered,  "  Very  well ;  here  is  money. 
Do  you  go  and  buy  us  a  garden."  So  the  Jackal  took 
the  Barber's  money,  and  with  it  bought  a  fine  garden, 
in  which  were  cucumbers,  pumpkins,  melons,  figs,  and 
many  other  good  fruits  and  vegetables.  And  he  used 
to  go  there  every  day  and  feast  to  his  heart's  content. 
When,  however,  the  Barber  said  to  him,  "  What  is  the 
garden  like  which  you  bought  with  the  money  I  gave 
you?"  he  answered,  "There  are  very  fine  plants  in  it, 
but  there  is  no  fruit  upon  them  ;  when  the  fruit  is  ripe 
I  will  let  you  know."  This  reply  satisfied  the  Barber, 
who  inquired  no  further  at  that  time. 

199 


200  Old  Deccan  Days. 

A  little  while  afterward,  the  Barber  again  asked  the 
Jackal  about  the  garden,  saying,  "  I  see  you  go  down 
to  that  garden  every  day ;  is  the  fruit  getting  ripe  ?" 
"  Oh  dear  no,  not  yet,"  answered  the  Jackal ;  "  why, 
the  plants  are  only  just  coming  into  blossom." 

But  all  this  time  there  was  a  great  deal  of  fruit  in 
the  garden,  and  the  Jackal  went  there  every  day  and 
ate  as  much  as  he  could. 

Again,  a  third  time,  when  some  weeks  had  passed, 
the  Barber  said  to  him,  "  Is  there  no  ripe  fruit  in  our 
garden  yet?"  "No,"  said  the  Jackal ;  "the  blossoms 
have  only  just  fallen,  but  the  fruit  is  forming.  In  time 
we  shall  have  a  fine  show  of  melons  and  figs  there." 

Then  the  Barber  began  to  think  the  Jackal  was  de- 
ceiving him,  and  determined  to  see  and  judge  for  him- 
self. So  next  day,  without  saying  anything  about  it, 
he  followed  him  down  to  the  garden. 

Now  it  happened  that  very  day  the  Jackal  had  in- 
vited all  his  friends  to  come  and  feast  there.  All  the 
animals  in  the  neighboring  jungle  had  accepted  the 
invitation  ;  there  they  came  trooping  by  hundreds  and 
dozens,  and  were  very  merry  indeed — running  here 
and  there,  and  eating  all  the  melons  and  cucumbers 
and  figs  and  pumpkins  in  the  place. 

The  Barber  peeped  over  the  hedge,  and  saw  the 
assembled  wild  beasts,  and  his  friend  the  Jackal  enter- 
taining them — talking  to  this  one,  laughing  with  that, 
and  eating  with  all.  The  good  man  did  not  dare  to 
attack  the  intruders,  as  they  were  many  and  powerful. 
But  he  went  home  at  once,  very  angry,  muttering  to 
himself,  "  I'll  be  the  death  of  that  young  jackanapes ; 
he  shall  play  no  more  pranks  in  my  garden."  And, 
watching  his  opportunity,  he  returned  there  when  the 


The  Jackal,  the  Barber  and  the  Brahmin.     201 

Jackal  and  all  his  friends  had  left,  and  tied  a  long 
knife  to  the  largest  of  the  cucumbers  that  still  re- 
mained ;  then  he  went  home  and  said  nothing  of  what 
he  had  seen. 

Early  next  morning  the  Jackal  thought  to  himself, 
"  I'll  just  run  down  to  the  garden  and  see  if  there  are 
no  cucumbers  or  melons  left."  So  he  went  there,  and, 
picking  out  the  largest  of  the  cucumbers,  began  to  eat 
it.  Quick  as  thought,  the  long  knife,  that  was  con- 
cealed by  the  cucumber  leaves,  ran  into  him,  cutting 
his  muzzle,  his  neck  and  his  side. 

"  Ah,  that  nasty  Barber  I"  he  cried  ;  "  this  must  be 
his  doing !"  And  instead  of  going  home,  he  ran  as 
fast  as  he  could,  very  far,  far,  away  into  the  jungle,  and 
stretching  himself  out  on  a  great  flat  rock,  prepared 
to  die. 

But  he  did  not  die.  Only  for  three  whole  days  the 
pain  in  his  neck  and  side  was  so  great  that  he  could 
not  move ;  moreover,  he  felt  very  weak  from  loss  of 
blood. 

At  the  end  of  the  third  day  he  tried  to  get  up,  but 
his  own  blood  had  sealed  him  to  the  stone !  He  en- 
deavored to  move  it  by  his  struggles,  but  could  not  suc- 
ceed. "  Oh  dear  !  oh  dear  I"  he  murmured  ;  "  to  think 
that  I  should  recover  from  my  wound,  only  to  die  such 
a  horrible  death  as  this !  Ah  me  !  here  is  the  punish- 
ment of  dishonesty  !"  And,  having  said  this,  he  began 
to  weep.  It  chanced,  however,  that  the  god  of  Rain 
heard  his  lamentations,  and  taking  pity  on  the  unfor- 
tunate animal,  he  sent  a  kindly  shower,  which,  wetting 
the  stone,  effected  his  release. 

No  sooner  was  the  Jackal  set  free  than  he  began  to 
think  what  he  could  do  to  earn  a  livelihood,  since  he  did 


402  Old  Deccan  Days. 

not  dare  return  to  the  Barber's  house.  It  was  not  long 
before  a  feasible  plan  struck  him  :  all  around  was  the 
mud  made  by  the  recent  rain  ;  he  placed  a  quantity  of 
it  in  a  small  chattee,  covered  the  top  over  carefully 
with  leaves  (as  people  do  jars  of  fresh  butter),  and  took 
it  into  a  neighboring  village  to  sell. 

At  the  door  of  one  of  the  first  houses  to  which  he 
came  stood  a  woman,  to  whom  the  Jackal  said,  "  Mahi, 
here  is  butter — beautiful  fresh  butter !  won't  you  buy 
some  fresh  butter?"  She  answered,  "Are  you  sure  it 
is  quite  fresh?  Let  me  see  it."  But  he  replied,  "  It  is 
perfectly  fresh  ;  but  if  you  open  the  chattee  now,  it 
will  be  all  spoilt  by  the  time  you  want  it.  If  you  like 
to  buy  it,  you  may  take  it ;  if  not,  I  will  sell  it  to  some 
one  else."  The  woman  did  want  some  fresh  butter, 
and  the  chattee  the  Jackal  carried  on  his  head  was  care- 
fully fastened  up,  as  if  what  it  contained  was  of  the 
best ;  and  she  knew  if  she  opened  it,  it  might  spoil 
before  her  husband  returned  home  ;  besides,  she  thought, 
if  the  Jackal  had  intended  to  deceive  her,  he  would 
have  been  more  pressing  in  asking  her  to  buy  it.  So 
she  said,  "  Very  well,  give  me  the  chattee ;  here  is 
money  for  you.  You  are  sure  it  is  the  best  butter  ?" 
"  It  is  the  best  of  its  kind,"  answered  the  Jackal ; 
"  only  be  sure  you  put  it  in  some  cool  place,  and  don't 
open  it  till  it  is  wanted."  And  taking  the  money,  he 
ran  away. 

A  short  time  afterward  the  woman  discovered  how 
she  had  been  cheated,  and  was  very  angry ;  but  the 
Jackal  was  by  that  time  far  away,  out  of  reach  of 
punishment. 

When  his  money  was  spent,  the  Jackal  felt  puzzled 
as  to  how  to  get  a  living,  since  no  one  would  give  him 


The  Jackal,  the  Barber  and  the  Brahmin.    2O$ 

food  and  he  could  buy  none.  Fortunately  for  him,  just 
then  one  of  the  bullocks  belonging  to  the  village  died. 
The  Jackal  found  it  lying  dead  by  the  road-side,  and 
he  began  to  eat  it,  and  ate,  and  ate  so  much  that  at  last 
he  had  got  too  far  into  the  animal's  body  to  be  seen  by 
passers-by.  Now  the  weather  was  hot  and  dry.  Whilst 
the  Jackal  was  in  it,  the  bullock's  skin  crinkled  up  so 
tightly  with  the  heat  that  it  became  too  hard  for  him 
to  bite  through,  and  so  he  could  not  get  out  again. 

The  Mahars*  of  the  village  all  came  out  to  bury  the 
dead  bullock.  The  Jackal,  who  was  inside  it,  feared 
that  if  they  caught  him  they  would  kill  him,  and  that 
if  they  did  not  discover  him,  he  would  be  buried  alive  ; 
so  on  their  approach  he  called  out,  "  People,  people, 
take  care  how  you  touch  me,  for  I  am  a  great  saint." 
The  poor  people  were  very  much  frightened  when  they 
heard  the  dead  bullock  talking,  and  thought  that  some 
mighty  spirit  must  indeed  possess  it.f  "  Who  are  you, 
sir,  and  what  do  you  want?"  they  cried.  "  I,"  an- 
swered the  Jackal,  "  am  a  very  holy  saint.  I  am  also 
the  god  of  your  village,  and  I  am  very  angry  with  you 
because  you  never  worship  me  nor  bring  me  offerings." 
"  O  my  Lord,"  they  cried,  "  what  offerings  will  please 
you  ?  Tell  us  only,  and  we  will  bring  you  whatever 
you  like."  "  Good,"  he  replied.  "  Then  you  must- 
fetch  here  plenty  of  rice,  plenty  of  flowers  and  a  nice 
fat  chicken  ;  place  them  as  an  offering  beside  me,  and 
pour  a  great  deal  of  water  over  them,  as  you  do  at  ycur 
most  solemn  feasts,  and  I  will  forgive  you  your  sins." 
The  Mahars  did  as  they  were  commanded.  They 
placed  some  rice  and  flowers,  and  the  best  chicken  they 

*  The  lowest  caste,  employed  as  scavengers  in  every  village, 
f  See  Notes  at  the  end. 


/O4  Old  Deccan  Days. 

could  procure,  beside  the  bullock,  and  poured  water 
over  it  and  the  offering.  Then,  no  sooner  did  the  dry, 
hard  bullock's  skin  get  wetted  than  it  split  in  many 
places,  and  to  the  surprise  of  all  his  worshipers,  the 
Jackal  jumped  out,  seized  the  chicken  in  his  mouth, 
and  ran  away  with  it  through  the  midst  of  them  into 
the  jungle.  The  Mahars  ran  after  him  over  hedges  and 
ditches  for  many,  many  miles,  but  he  got  away  in  spite 
of  them  all. 

On,  on  he  ran— on,  on,  for  a  very  long  way — until 
at  last  he  came  to  a  place  where  a  little  kid  lived  under 
a  little  sicakai*  tree.  All  her  relations  and  friends 
were  away,  and  when  she  saw  him  coming  she  thought 
to  herself,  "  Unless  I  frighten  this  Jackal,  he  will  eat 
me."  So  she  ran  as  hard  as  she  could  up  against  the 
sicakai  tree,  which  made  all  the  branches  shake  and 
the  leaves  go  rustle,  rustle,  rustle.  And  when  the 
Jackal  heard  the  rustling  noise  he  got  frightened,  and 
thought  it  was  all  the  little  kid's  friends  coming  to  help 
her.  And  she  called  out  to  him,  "  Run  away,  Jackal, 
run  away.  Thousands  and  thousands  of  Jackals  have 
run  away  at  that  sound — run  away  for  your  life."  And 
tiie  Jackal  was  so  frightened  that  he  ran  away.  So,  he 
who  had  deceived  so  many  was  outwitted  by  a  simple 
little  kid  1 

After  this  the  Jackal  found  his  way  back  to  his  own 
village,  where  the  Barber  lived,  and  there  for  some 
time  he  used  to  prowl  round  the  houses  every  night 
and  live  upon  any  bones  he  could  find.  The  villagers 
did  not  like  his  coming,  but  did  not  know  how  to  catch 
him,  until  one  night  his  old  friend  the  Barber  (who 
bad  never  forgiven  him  for  stealing  the  fruit  from  the 
*  Acacia  concinna. 


The  Jackal,  the  Barber  and  the  Brahmin.     205 

garden)  caught  him  in  a  great  net,  having  before  made 
many  unsuccessful  attempts  to  do  so.  "  Aha !"  cried 
the  Barber,  "I've  got  you  at  last,  my  friend.  You 
did  not  escape  death  from  the  cucumber-knife  for  noth- 
ing !  you  won't  get  away  this  time.  Here,  wife  !  wife ! 
see  what  a  prize  I've  got."  The  Barber's  wife  came 
'unning  to  the  door,  and  the  Barber  gave  her  the 
Jackal  (after  he  had  tied  all  his  four  legs  firmly  to- 
gether with  a  strong  rope),  and  said  to  her,  "Take 
this  animal  into  the  house,  and  be  sure  you  don't  let 
him  escape,  while  I  go  and  get  a  knife  to  kill  him 
with." 

The  Barber's  wife  did  as  she  was  bid,  and  taking  the 
Jackal  into  the  house,  laid  him  down  on  the  floor. 
But  no  sooner  had  the  Barber  gone  than  the  Jackal 
said  to  her,  "  Ah,  good  woman,  your  husband  will  re- 
turn directly  and  put  me  to  death.  For  the  love  of 
heaven,  loosen  the  rope  round  my  feet  before  he  comes, 
for  one  minute  only,  and  let  me  drink  a  little  water 
from  that  puddle  by  the  door,  for  my  throat  is  parched 
with  thirst."  "  No,  no,  friend  Jackal,"  answered  the 
Barber's  wife.  "  I  know  well  enough  what  you'll  do. 
No  sooner  shall  I  have  untied  your  feet  than  you  will 
run  away,  and  when  my  husband  returns  and  finds  you 
are  gone,  he  will  beat  me." 

"  Indeed,  indeed,  I  will  not  run  away,"  he  re- 
plied. "  Ah,  kind  mother,  have  pity  on  me,  only  for 
one  little  moment."  Then  the  Barber's  wife  thought, 
"  Well,  it  is  hard  not  to  grant  the  poor  beasf  s  last  re- 
quest ;  he  will  not  live  long  enough  to  have  many  more 
pleasures."  So  she  untied  the  Jackal's  legs  and  held 
him  by  a  rope,  that  he  might  drink  from  the  puddle. 
But  quick  as  possible,  he  gave  a  jump  and  a  twist  and 
18 


206  Old  Deccan  Days. 

a  pull,  and,  jerking  the  rope  out  of  her  hand,  escaped 
once  more  into  the  jungle. 

For  some  time  he  roamed  up  and  down,  living  on 
what  he  could  get  in  this  village  or  that,  until  he  had 
wandered  very  far  away  from  the  country  where  the 
Barber  lived.  At  last  one  day,  by  chance,  he  passed  a 
certain  cottage,  in  which  there  dwelt  a  very  poor  Brah- 
min, who  had  seven  daughters. 

As  the  Jackal  passed  by,  the  Brahmin  was  saying  to 
himself,  "  Oh  dear  me !  what  can  I  do  for  my  seven 
daughters?  I  shall  have  to  support  them  all  my  life, 
for  they  are  much  too  poor  ever  to  get  married.  If  a 
dog  or  a  jackal  were  to  offer  to  take  one  off  my  hands, 
he  should  have  her."  Next  day  the  Jackal  called  on 
the  Brahmin,  and  said  to  him,  "  You  said  yesterday,  if 
a  jackal  or  a  dog  were  to  offer  to  marry  one  of  your 
daughters,  you  would  let  him  have  her ;  will  you, 
therefore  accept  me  as  a  son-in-law?" 

The  poor  Brahmin  felt  very  much  embarrassed,  but 
it  was  certain  he  had  said  the  words,  and  therefore  he 
felt  in  honor  bound  not  to  retract,  although  he  had  lit- 
tle dreamed  of  ever  being  placed  in  such  a  predica- 
ment. Just  at  that  moment  all  the  seven  daughters 
began  crying  for  bread,  and  the  father  had  no  bread  to 
give  them.  Observing  this,  the  Jackal  continued, 
*'  Let  me  marry  one  of  your  seven  daughters  and  I  will 
take  care  of  her.  It  will  at  least  leave  you  one  less  to 
provide  for,  and  I  will  see  that  she  never  needs  food." 
Then  the  Brahmin's  heart  was  softened,  and  he  gave 
the  Jackal  his  eldest  daughter  in  marriage,  and  the 
Jackal  took  her  home  to  his  den  in  the  high  rocks. 

Now  you  will  say  there  never  was  a  Jackal  so  clevei 
as  this.  Very  true,  for  this  was  not  a  common  Jackal, 


The  Jackal,  the  Barber  and  the  Brahmin.     207 

or  he  could  never  have  done  all  that  I  have  told  you 
This  Jackal  was,  in  fact,  a  great  Rajah  in  disguise, 
who,  to  amuse  himself,  took  the  form  of  a  Jackal ;  for 
he  was  a  great  magician  as  well  as  a  great  prince. 

The  den  to  which  he  took  the  Brahmin's  daughter 
looked  like  quite  a  common  hole  in  the  rocks  on  the 
outside,  but  inside  it  was  a  splendid  palace,  adorned 
with  silver,  and  gold,  and  ivory  and  precious  stones. 
But  even  his  own  wife  did  not  know  that  he  was  not 
always  a  Jackal,  for  the  Rajah  never  took  his  human 
form  except  every  morning  very  early,  when  he  used 
to  take  off  the  jackal  skin  and  wash  it  and  brush  it, 
and  put  it  on  again. 

After  he  and  his  wife,  the  Brahmin's  daughter,  had 
lived  up  in  their  home  in  the  rocks  happily  for  some 
time,  who  should  the  Jackal  see  one  day  but  his  father- 
in-law,  the  old  Brahmin,  climbing  up  the  hill  to  come 
and  pay  him  a  visit.  The  Jackal  was  vexed  to  see  the 
Brahmin,  for  he  knew  he  was  very  poor,  and  thought 
he  had  most  likely  come  to  beg ;  and  so  it  was.  The 
Brahmin  said  to  him,  "  Son-in-law,  let  me  come  into 
your  cave  and  rest  a  little  while.  I  want  to  ask  you  to 
help  me,  for  I  am  very  poor  and  much  in  need  of 
help." 

"  Don't  go  into  my  cave,"  said  the  Jackal ;  "  it  is  but 
a  poor  hole,  not  fit  for  you  to  enter"  (for  he  did  not  wish 
his  father-in-law  to  see  his  fine  palace)  ;  "  but  I  will 
call  my  wife,  that  you  may  see  I  have  not  eaten  her  up, 
and  she  and  you  and  I  will  talk  over  the  matter,  and 
see  what  we  can  do  for  you." 

So  the  Brahmin,  the  Brahmin's  daughter  and  the 
Jackal  all  sat  down  on  the  hill-side  together,  and  the 
Brahmin  said,  "  I  don't  know  what  to  do  to  get  food 


ao8  Old  Deccan  Days. 

for  myself,  my  wife  and  my  six  daughters.  Son-in- 
law  Jackal,  cannot  you  help  me?"  "It  is  a  difficult 
business,"  answered  the  Jackal,  "but  I'll  do  what  I 
can  for  you ;"  and  he  ran  to  his  cave  and  fetched  a 
large  melon,  and  gave  it  to  the  Brahmin,  saying, 
"  Father-in-law,  you  must  take  this  melon,  and  plant  it 
ii  your  garden,  and  when  it  grows  up  sell  all  the  fruit 
you  find  upon  it,  and  that  will  bring  you  in  some 
money."  So  the  Brahmin  took  the  melon  home  with 
him  and  planted  it  in  his  garden. 

By  next  day  the  melon  that  the  Jackal  had  given 
him  had  grown  up  in  the  Brahmin's  garden  into  a  fine 
plant,  covered  with  hundreds  of  beautiful  ripe  melons. 
The  Brahmin,  his  wife  and  family  were  overjoyed  at 
the  sight.  And  all  the  neighbors  were  astonished,  and 
said,  "  How  fast  that  fine  melon  plant  has  grown  in 
the  Brahmin's  garden !" 

Now  it  chanced  that  a  woman  who  lived  in  a  house 
close  by  wanted  some  melons,  and  seeing  what  fine  ones 
these  were,  she  went  down  at  once  to  the  Brahmin's 
house  and  bought  two  or  three  from  the  Brahmin's 
wife.  She  took  them  home  with  her  and  cut  them 
open ;  but  then,  lo  and  behold !  marvel  of  marvels ! 
what  a  wonderful  sight  astonished  her !  Instead  of  the 
thick  white  pulp  she  expected  to  see,  the  whole  of  the 
inside  of  the  melon  was  composed  of  diamonds,  rubies 
and  emeralds,  and  all  the  seeds  were  enormous  pearls. 
She  immediately  locked  her  door,  and  taking  with  her 
all  the  money  she  had,  ran  back  to  the  Brahmin's  wife 
and  said  to  her,  "  Those  were  very  good  melons  you 
sold  me ;  I  like  them  so  much  that  I  will  buy  all  the 
others  on  your  melon  plant."  And  giving  her  the 
money,  she  took  home  all  the  rest  of  the  melons.  Now 


The  Jackal,  the  Barber  and  the  Brahmin.     209 

this  cunning  woman  told  none  of  her  friends  of  the 
treasure  she  had  found,  and  the  poor,  stupid  Brahmin 
and  his  family  did  not  know  what  they  had  lost,  for 
they  had  never  thought  of  opening  any  of  the  melons ; 
so  that  for  all  the  precious  stones  they  sold  they  only 
got  a  few  pice,  which  was  very  hard.  Next  day,  when 
they  looked  out  of  the  window,  the  melon  plant  was 
again  covered  with  fine  ripe  melons,  and  again  the 
woman  who  had  bought  those  which  had  grown  the 
day  before  came  and  bought  them  all.  And  this  went 
on  for  several  days.  There  were  so  many  melons,  and 
all  the  melons  were  so  full  of  precious  stones,  that  the 
woman  who  bought  them  had  enough  to  fill  the  whole 
of  one  room  in  her  house  with  diamonds,  rubies,  eme- 
ralds and  pearls. 

At  last,  however,  the  wonderful  melon  plant  began 
to  wither,  and  when  the  woman  came  to  buy  melons 
one  morning,  the  Brahmin's  wife  was  obliged  to  say  to 
her,  in  a  sad  voice,  "  Alas !  there  are  no  more  melons 
on  our  melon  plant."  And  the  woman  went  back  to 
her  own  house  very  much  disappointed. 

That  day  the  Brahmin  and  his  wife  and  children  had 
no  money  in  the  house  to  buy  food  with,  and  they  all 
felt  very  unhappy  to  think  that  the  fine  melon  plant  had 
withered.  But  the  Brahmin's  youngest  daughter,  who 
was  a  clever  girl,  thought,  "  Though  there  are  no  more 
melons  fit  to  sell  on  our  melon  plant,  perhaps  I  may  be 
able  to  find  one  or  two  shriveled  ones,  which,  if  cooked, 
will  give  us  something  for  dinner."  So  she  went  out 
to  look,  and  searching  carefully  amongst  the  thick  leaves, 
found  two  or  three  withered  little  melons  still  remaining. 
These  she  took  into  the  house  and  began  cutting  them 
up  to  cook,  when — more  wonderful  than  wonderful  !— 
18* 


a  jo  Old  Dec  can  Days. 

within  each  little  melon  she  found  a  number  of  small 
emeralds,  rubies,  diamonds  and  pearls  !  The  girl  called 
her  father  and  mother,  and  her  five  sisters,  crying,  "  See 
what  I  have  found !  See  these  precious  stones  and 
pearls.  I  dare  say  inside  all  the  melons  we  sold  there 
were  as  good  or  better  than  these.  No  wonder  that 
woman  was  so  anxious  to  buy  them  all !  See,  father — 
see,  mother — see,  sisters ! " 

Then  they  were  all  overjoyed  to  see  the  treasure,  but 
the  Brahmin  said,  "  What  a  pity  we  have  lost  all  the 
benefit  of  my  son-in-law  the  Jackal's  good  gift  by  not 
knowing  its  worth  !  I  will  go  at  once  to  that  woman, 
and  try  and  make  her  give  us  back  the  melons  she 
took." 

So  he  went  to  the  melon-buyer's  house,  and  said  to 
her, "  Give  me  back  the  melons  you  took  from  me,  who 
did  not  know  their  worth."  She  answered,  "  I  don't 
know  what  you  mean."  He  replied,  "  You  were  very 
deceitful ;  you  bought  melons  full  of  precious  stones 
from  us  poor  people,  who  did  not  know  what  they  were 
worth,  and  you  only  paid  for  them  the  price  of  common 
melons:  give  me  some  of  them  back,  I  pray  you." 
But  she  said,  "  I  bought  common  melons  from  your 
wife,  and  made  them  all  into  common  soup  long  ago ; 
therefore  talk  no  further  nonsense  about  jewels,  but  go 
about  your  business."  And  she  turned  him  out  of  the 
house.  Yet  all  this  time  she  had  a  whole  roomful  of 
the  emeralds,  diamonds,  rubies  and  pearls  that  she  had 
found  in  the  melons  the  Brahmin's  wife  had  sold  her. 

The  Brahmin  returned  home  and  said  to  his  wife,  "  I 
cannot  make  that  woman  give  me  back  any  of  the 
melons  you  sold  her ;  but  give  me  the  precious  stones 
our  daughter  has  just  found,  and  I  will  sell  them  to  a 


The   "Jackal,  the  Barber  and  the  Brahmin.     21 1 

jeweler  and  bring  home  some  money."  So  he  went  to 
the  town,  and  took  the  precious  stones  to  a  jeweler,  and 
said  to  him,  "  What  will  you  give  me  for  these  ?  "  But 
no  sooner  did  the  jeweler  see  them  than  he  said,  "  How 
could  such  a  poor  man  as  you  become  possessed  of 
such  prec  ous  stones  ?  You  must  have  stolen  them : 
you  are  a  thief!  You  have  stolen  these  from  my  shop, 
and  now  come  to  sell  them  to  me  ! " 

"  No,  no,  sir ;  indeed  no,  sir,"  cried  the  Brahmin. 
"Thief,  thief!"  shouted  the  jeweler.  "In  truth,  no 
sir,"  said  the  Brahmin ;  "  my  son-in-law,  the  Jackal, 
gave  me  a  melon  plant,  and  in  one  of  the  melons  I 
found  these  jewels."  "  I  don't  believe  a  word  you  say," 
screamed  the  jeweler  (and  he  began  beating  the  Brah- 
min, whom  he  held  by  the  arm)  ;  "  give  up  those  jewels 
which  you  have  stolen  from  my  shop."  "  No,  I  won't," 
roared  the  Brahmin  ;  "  oh  !  oh-o  !  oh-o-o  !  don't  beat 
me  so  ;  I  didn't  steal  them."  But  the  jeweler  was 
determined  to  get  the  jewels ;  so  he  beat  the  Brahmin 
and  called  the  police,  who  came  running  up  to  his  assist- 
ance, and  shouted  till  a  great  crowd  of  people  had 
collected  round  his  shop.  Then  he  said  to  the  Brahmin, 
"  Give  me  up  the  jewels  you  stole  from  me,  or  I'll  give 
you  to  the  police,  and  you  shall  be  put  in  jail."  The 
Brahmin  tried  to  tell  his  story  about  his  son-in-law,  the 
Jackal,  but  of  course  nobody  believed  him  ;  and  he  was 
obliged  to  give  the  precious  stones  to  the  jeweler  in 
order  to  escape  the  police,  and  to  run  home  as  fast  as 
he  could.  And  every  one  thought  the  jeweler  was  very 
kind  to  let  him  off  so  easily. 

All  his  family  were  very  unhappy  when  they  heard 
what  had  befallen  him.  But  his  wife  said,  "  You  had 
better  go  again  to  our  son-in-law,  the  Jackal,  and  see 


212  Old  Deccan   Days. 

what  he  can  do  for  us."  So  next  day  the  Brahmin 
climbed  the  hill  again,  as  he  had  done  before,  and 
went  to  call  upon  the  Jackal.  When  the  Jackal  saw 
him  coining  he  was  not  very  well  pleased.  So  he  went 
to  meet  him,  and  said,  "  Father-in-law,  I  did  not  expect 
to  see  you  again  so  soon."  "  I  merely  came  to  see  how 
you  were,"  answered  the  Brahmin,  "  and  to  tell  you 
how  poor  we  are  ;  and  how  glad  we  should  be  of  any 
help  you  can  give  us."  "  What  have  you  done  with 
all  the  melons  I  gave  you  ? "  asked  the  Jackal.  '.'  Ah," 
answered  the  Brahmin,  "  that  is  a  sad  story  !  "  And 
beginning  at  the  beginning,  he  related  how  they  had 
sold  almost  all  the  melons  without  knowing  their  value  ; 
and  how  the  few  precious  stones  they  had  found  had 
been  taken  from  him  by  the  jeweler.  When  the  Jackal 
heard  this  he  laughed  very  much,  and  said,  "  I  see  it  is 
no  use  giving  such  unfortunate  people  as  you  gold  or 
jewels,  for  they  will  only  bring  you  into  trouble.  Come, 
I'll  give  you  a  more  useful  present."  So,  running  into 
his  cave,  he  fetched  thence  a  small  chattee,  and  gave  it 
to  the  Brahmin,  saying, "  Take  this  chattee  ;  whenever 
you  or  any  of  the  family  are  hungry,  you  will  always 
find  in  it  as  good  a  dinner  as  this."  And  putting  his 
paw  into  the  chattee,  he  extracted  thence  currie  and 
rice,  pilau,*  and  all  sorts  of  good  things,  enough  to 
feast  a  hundred  men  ;  and  the  more  he  took  out  of  the 
chattee,  the  more  remained  inside. 

When  the  Brahmin  saw  the  chattee  and  smelt  the 
good  dinner,  his  eyes  glistened  for  joy ;  and  he  em- 
braced the  Jackal,  saying,  "  Dear  son-in-law,  you  are 
the  only  support  of  our  house."  And  he  took  his  nevf 
present  carefully  home  with  him. 

*  Meat  cooked  with  almonds,  raisins  and  spice 


The  Jackal,  the  Barber  and  the  Brahmin.     213 

After  this,  for  some  time,  the  whole  family  led  a  very 
happy  life,  for  they  never  wanted  good  food ;  every 
day  the  Brahmin,  his  wife  and  his  six  daughters  found 
inside  the  chattee  a  most  delicious  dinner ;  and  every 
day,  when  they  had  dined,  they  placed  it  on  a  shelf,  to 
find  it  replenished  when  next  it  was  needed. 

But  it  happened  that  hard  by  there  lived  another 
Brahmin,  a  very  great  man,  who  was  much  in  the 
Rajah's  confidence  ;  and  this  man  smelt  daily  the  smell 
of  a  very  nice  dinner,  which  puzzled  him  a  good  deal. 
The  rich  Brahmin  thought  it  smelt  even  nicer  than  his 
own  dinner,  for  which  he  paid  so  much,  and  yet  it 
seemed  to  come  from  the  poor  Brahmin's  little  cottage. 
So  one  day  he  determined  to  find  out  all  about  it ;  and, 
going  to  call  on  his  neighbor,  he  said  to  him,  "  Every 
day,  at  about  twelve  o'clock,  I  smell  such  a  very  nice 
dinner — much  nicer  than  my  own ;  and  it  seems  to 
come  from  your  house.  You  must  live  on  very  good 
things,  I  think,  although  you  seem  to  every  one  to  be 
so  very  poor." 

Then,  in  the  pride  of  his  heart,  the  poor  Brahmin 
invited  his  rich  neighbor  to  come  and  dine  with  him, 
and  lifting  the  magic  chattee  down  from  the  shelf,  took 
out  of  it  such  delicate  fare  as  the  other  had  never  before 
tasted.  And  in  an  evil  hour  he  proceeded  to  tell  his 
friend  of  the  wondrous  properties  of  the  chattee,  which 
his  son-in-law,  the  Jackal,  had  given  him,  and  how  it 
never  was  empty.  No  sooner  had  the  great  man  learnt 
all  this  than  he  went  to  the  Rajah,  and  said  to  him, 
"  There  is  a  poor  Brahmin  in  the  town  who  possesses 
a  wonderful  chattee,  which  is  always  filled  with  the 
most  delicious  dinner.  I  should  not  feel  authorized  to 
deprive  him  of  it ;  but  if  it  pleased  your  Highness  to 


H4  Old  Dcccan  Days. 

take  it  from  him,  he  could  not  complain."  The  Rajah, 
hearing  this,  determined  to  see  and  taste  for  himself. 
So  he  said,  "  I  should  very  much  like  to  see  this  chattee 
with  my  own  eyes."  And  he  accompanied  the  rich 
Brahmin  to  the  poor  Brahmin's  house.  The  poor 
Brahmin  was  overjoyed  at  being  noticed  by  the  Rajah 
himself,  and  gladly  exhibited  the  various  excellences 
of  the  chattee ;  but  no  sooner  did  the  Rajah  taste  the 
dinner  it  contained  than  he  ordered  his  guards  to  seize 
it  and  take  it  away  to  the  palace,  in  spite  of  the  Brah- 
min's tears  and  protestations.  Thus,  for  a  second 
time,  he  lost  the  benefit  of  his  son-in-law's  gift. 

When  the  Rajah  had  gone,  the  Brahmin  said  to  his 
wife,  "  There  is  nothing  to  be  done  but  to  go  again  to 
the  Jackal,  and  see  if  he  can  help  us."  "  If  you  don't 
take  care,  you'll  put  him  out  of  all  patience  at  last," 
answered  she.  "  I  can't  think  why  you  need  have  gone 
talking  about  our  chattee  !" 

When  the  Jackal  heard  the  Brahmin's  story,  he  be- 
came very  cross,  and  said,  "  What  a  stupid  old  man 
you  were  to  say  anything  about  the  chattee  !  But  see, 
here  is  another,  which  may  aid  you  to  get  back  the 
first.  Take  care  of  it,  for  this  is  the  last  time  I  will 
help  you."  And  he  gave  the  Brahmin  a  chattee,  in 
which  was  a  stout  stick  tied  to  a  very  strong  rope. 
"  Take  this,"  he  said,  "  into  the  presence  of  those  who 
deprived  you  of  my  other  gifts,  and  when  you  open  the 
chattee,  command  the  stick  to  beat  them  ;  this  it  will 
do  so  effectually  that  they  will  gladly  return  you  what 
you  have  lost ;  only  take  care  not  to  open  the  chattee 
when  you  are  alone,  or  the  .stick  that  is  in  it  will 
punish  your  rashness." 

The  Brahmin  thanked  his  son-in-law,  and  took  away 


The  Jackal,  the  Barber  and  the  Brahmin.     215 

the  chattee,  but  he  found  it  hard  to  believe  all  that  had 
been  said.  So,  going  through  the  jungle  on  his  way 
home,  he  uncovered  it,  just  to  peep  in  and  see  if  the 
stick  were  really  there.  No  sooner  had  he  done  this 
than  out  jumped  the  rope,  out  jumped  the  stick ;  the 
rope  seized  him  and  bound  him  to  a  tree,  and  the  stick 
beat  him,  and  beat  him,  and  beat  him,  until  he  was 
nearly  killed.  "  Oh  dear !  oh  dear !"  screamed  the 
Brahmin  ;  "  what  an  unlucky  man  I  am  !  Oh  dear  ! 
oh  dear !  stop,  please  stop !  good  stick,  stop !  what  a 
very  good  stick  this  is !"  But  the  stick  would  not  stop, 
but  beat  him  so  much  that  he  could  hardly  crawl  home 
again. 

Then  the  Brahmin  put  the  rope  and  stick  back  again 
into  the  chattee,  and  sent  to  his  rich  neighbor  and  to 
the  Rajah,  and  said  to  them,  "  I  have  a  new  chattee, 
much  better  than  the  old  one ;  do  come  and  see  what 
a  fine  one  it  is."  And  the  rich  Brahmin  and  the  Rajah 
thought,  "  This  is  something  good ;  doubtless  there  is 
a  choice  dinner  in  this  chattee  also,  and  we  will  take 
it  from  this  foolish  man,  as  we  did  the  other."  So 
they  went  down  to  meet  the  Brahmin  in  the  jungle, 
taking  with  them  all  their  followers  and  attendants. 
Then  the  Brahmin  uncovered  his  chattee,  saying, 
"Beat,  stick,  beat!  beat  them  every  one!"  and  the 
stick  jumped  out,  and  the  rope  jumped  out,  and  the 
rope  caught  hold  of  the  Rajah  and  the  rich  Brahmin 
and  all  their  attendants,  and  tied  them  fast  to  the  trees 
that  grew  around,  and  the  stick  ran  from  one  to  an- 
other, beating,  beating,  beating — beating  the  Rajah, 
beating  his  courtiers — beating  the  rich  Brahmin,  beat- 
ing his  attendants,  and  beating  all  their  followers; 
while  the  poor  Brahmin  cried  with  all  his  might, 


2i6  Old  Deccan  Days. 

"  Give  me  back  my  chattee !  give  me  back  my 
chattee  1" 

At  this  the  Rajah  and  his  people  were  very  much 
frightened,  and  thought  they  were  going  to  be  killed. 
And  the  Rajah  said  to  the  Brahmin,  "  Take  away  your 
stick,  only  take  away  your  stick,  and  you  shall  have 
back  your  chattee."  So  the  Brahmin  put  the  stick 
and  rope  back  into  the  chattee,  and  the  Rajah  returned 
him  the  dinner-making  chattee.  And  all  the  people 
felt  very  much  afraid  of  the  Brahmin,  and  respected 
him  very  much. 

Then  he  took  the  chattee  containing  the  rope  and 
stick  to  the  house  of  the  woman  who  had  bought  the 
melons,  and  the  rope  caught  her  and  the  stick  beat  her ; 
and  the  Brahmin  cried,  "  Return  me  those  melons !  re- 
turn me  those  melons !"  And  the  woman  said,  "  Only 
make  your  stick  stop  beating  me  and  you  shall  have 
back  all  the  melons."  So  he  ordered  the  stick  back 
into  the  chattee,  and  she  returned  him  them  forthwith 
— a  whole  roomful  of  melons  full  of  diamonds,  pearls, 
emeralds  and  rubies. 

The  Brahmin  took  them  home  to  his  wife,  and  going 
into  the  town,  with  the  help  of  his  good  stick,  forced 
the  jeweler  who  had  deprived  him  of  the  little  emeralds, 
rubies,  diamonds  and  pearls  he  had  taken  to  sell  to  give 
them  back  to  him  again,  and  having  accomplished  this, 
he  returned  to  his  family ;  and  from  that  time  they  all 
lived  very  happily.  Then,  one  day,  the  Jackal's  wife 
invited  her  six  sisters  to  come  and  pay  her  a  visit. 
Now  the  youngest  sister  was  more  clever  than  any  of 
the  others ;  and  it  happened  that,  very  early  in  the 
morning,  she  saw  her  brother-in-law,  the  Jackal,  take 
off  the  jackal  skin  and  wash  it  and  brush  it,  and 


The  Jackal,  the  Barber  and  the  Brahmin.     217 

hang  it  up  to  dry ;  and  when  he  had  taken  off  the 
jackal-skin  coat,  he  looked  the  handsomest  prince  that 
ever  was  seen.  Then  his  little  sister-in-law  ran,  quickly 
and  quietly,  and  stole  away  the  jackal-skin  coat,  and 
threw  it  on  the  fire  and  burnt  it.  And  she  awoke 
her  sister,  and  said,  "  Sister,  sister,  your  husband 
is  no  longer  a  jackal;  see,  that  is  he  standing  by 
the  door."  So  the  Jackal  Rajah's  wife  ran  to  the  door 
to  meet  her  husband,  and  because  the  jackal's  skin  was 
burnt,  and  he  could  wear  it  no  longer,  he  continued  to 
be  a  man  for  the  rest  of  his  life,  and  gave  up  playing 
all  jackal-like  pranks ;  and  he  and  his  wife,  and  his 
father  and  mother  and  sisters-in-law,  lived  very  happily 
all  the  rest  of  their  days. 

19  K 


XIII. 
TIT   FOR    TAT. 

THERE  once  lived  a  Camel  and  a  Jackal  who 
were  great  friends.  One  day  the  Jackal  said  to 
the  Camel,  "  I  know  that  there  is  a  fine  field  of  sugar- 
cane on  the  other  side  of  the  river.  If  you  will  take  me 
across,  I'll  show  you  the  place.  This  plan  will  suit  me 
as  well  as  you.  You  will  enjoy  eating  the  sugar-cane, 
and  I  am  sure  to  find  many  crabs,  bones  and  bits  of  fisn 
by  the  river-side,  on  which  to  make  a  good  dinner." 

The  Camel  consented  and  swam  across  the  river, 
taking  the  Jackal,  who  could  not  swim,  on  his  back. 
When  they  reached  the  other  side,  the  Camel  went  to 
eating  the  sugar-cane,  and  the  Jackal  ran  up  and  down 
the  river  bank  devouring  all  the  crabs,  bits  of  fish  and 
bones  he  could  find. 

But  being  so  much  smaller  an  animal,  he  had  made 
an  excellent  meal  before  the  Camel  had  eaten  more 
than  two  or  three  mouthfuls ;  and  no  sooner  had  he 
finished  his  dinner  than  he  ran  round  and  round  the 
sugar-cane  field,  yelping  and  howling  with  all  his 
might 

The  villagers  heard  him,  and  thought,  "  There  is  a 

Jackal  among  the  sugar-canes ;  he  will  be  scratching 

holes  in  the  ground  and  spoiling  the  roots  of  the  plants." 

And  they  all  went  down  to  the  place  to   drive  him 

218 


Tit  for  Tat.  219 

away.  But  when  they  got  there  they  found  to  their 
surprise  not  only  a  Jackal,  but  a  Camel  who  was  eating 
the  sugar-canes !  This  made  them  very  angry,  and 
they  caught  the  poor  Camel  and  drove  him  from  the  field 
and  beat  him  and  beat  him,  until  he  was  nearly  dead. 

When  they  had  gone,  the  Jackal  said  to  the  Camel, 
"We  had  better  go  home."  And  the  Camel  said. 
"  Very  well ;  then  jump  upon  my  back,  as  you  did 
before." 

So  the  Jackal  jumped  upon  the  Camel's  back,  and 
the  Camel  began  to  recross  the  river.  When  they  had 
got  well  into  the  water,  the  Camel  said,  "  This  is  a 
pretty  way  in  which  you  have  treated  me,  friend  Jackal. 
No  sooner  had  you  finished  your  own  dinner  than  you 
must  go  yelping  about  the  place  loud  enough  to  arouse 
the  whole  village,  and  bring  all  the  villagers  down  to 
beat  me  black  and  blue,  and  turn  me  out  of  the  field 
before  I  had  eaten  two  mouthfuls !  What  in  the  world 
did  you  make  such  a  noise  for?" 

"I  don't  know,"  said  the  Jackal.  "  It  is  a  custom 
I  have.  I  always  like  to  sing  a  little  after  dinner." 

The  Camel  waded  on  through  the  river.  The  water 
reached  up  to  his  knees — then  above  them — up,  up,  up, 
higher  and  higher,  until  he  was  obliged  to  swim.  Then 
turning  to  the  Jackal,  he  said,  "  I  feel  very  anxious  to 
roll."  "  Oh,  pray  don't ;  why  do  you  wish  to  do  so?" 
asked  the  Jackal.  "  I  don't  know,"  answered  the 
Camel.  "  It  is  a  custom  I  have.  I  always  like  to  have 
a  little  roll  after  dinner."  So  saying,  he  rolled  over  in 
the  water,  shaking  the  Jackal  off  as  he  did  so.  And 
the  Jackal  was  drowned,  but  the  Camel  swam  safely 
ashore. 


XIV. 

THE   BRAHMIN,    THE    TIGER    AND    THE  SIX 

JUDGES. 

ONCE  upon  a  time,  a  Brahmin,  who  was  walking 
along  the  road,  came  upon  an  iron  cage,  in 
which  a  great  Tiger  had  been  shut  up  by  the  villagers 
who  caught  him. 

As  the  Brahmin  passed  by,  the  Tiger  called  out  and 
said  to  him,  "  Brother  Brahmin,  brother  Brahmin,  have 
pity  on  me,  and  let  me  out  of  this  cage  for  one  minute 
only  to  drink  a  little  water,  for  I  am  dying  of  thirst." 
The  Brahmin  answered,  "  No,  I  will  not ;  for  if  I  let 
you  out  of  the  cage  you  will  eat  me." 

"  Oh,  father  of  mercy,"  answered  the  Tiger,  "  in 
truth  that  will  I  not.  I  will  never  be  so  ungrateful ; 
only  let  me  out,  that  I  may  drink  some  water  and  re- 
turn." Then  the  Brahmin  took  pity  on  him  and  opened 
the  cage  door ;  but  no  sooner  had  he  done  so  than  the 
Tiger,  jumping  out,  said,  "  Now,  I  will  eat  you  first 
and  drink  the  water  afterward."  But  the  Brahmin 
said,  "  Only  do  not  kill  me  hastily.  Let  us  first  ask  the 
opinion  of  six,  and  if  all  of  them  say  it  is  just  and  fair 
that  you  should  put  me  to  death,  then  I  am  willing  to 
die."  "  Very  well,"  answered  the  Tiger,  "  it  shall  be 
as  you  say ;  we  will  first  ask  the  opinion  of  six." 

So  the  Brahmin  and  the  Tiger  walked  on  till  they 
220 


The  Brahmin,  Tiger  and  Six  Judges.       221 

came  to  a  Banyan  tree ;  and  the  Brahmin  said  to  it, 
"  Banyan  tree,  Banyan  tree,  hear  and  give  judgment." 
"  On  what  must  I  give  judgment?"  asked  the  Banyan 
tree.  "  This  Tiger,"  said  the  Brahmin,  "  begged  me 
to  let  him  out  of  his  cage  to  drink  a  little  water,  and  he 
promised  not  to  hurt  me  if  I  did  so ;  but  now,  that  I 
have  let  him  out,  he  wishes  to  eat  me.  Is  it  just  that 
he  should  do  so  or  no?" 

The  Banyan  tree  answered,  "  Men  often  come  to 
take  shelter  in  the  cool  shade  under  my  boughs  from 
the  scorching  rays  of  the  run ;  but  when  they  have 
rested,  they  cut  and  break  my  pretty  branches  and 
wantonly  scatter  my  leaves.  Let  the  Tiger  eat  the  man, 
for  men  are  an  ungrateful  race." 

At  these  words  the  Tiger  would  have  instantly  killed 
the  Brahmin ;  but  the  Brahmin  said,  "  Tiger,  Tiger, 
you  must  not  kill  me  yet,  for  you  promised  that  we 
should  first  hear  the  judgment  of  six."  "  Very  well," 
said  the  Tiger,  and  they  went  on  their  way.  After  a 
little  while  they  met  a  Camel.  "Sir  Camel,  Sir 
Camel,"  cried  the  Brahmin,  "  hear  and  give  judgment." 
"  On  what  shall  I  give  judgment?"  asked  the  Camel. 
And  the  Brahmin  related  how  the  Tiger  had  begged 
him  to  open  the  cage  door,  and  promised  not  to  eat  him 
if  he  did  so  ;  and  how  he  had  afterward  determined  to 
break  his  word,  and  asked  if  that  were  just  or  not. 
The  Camel  replied,  "  When  I  was  young  and  strong, 
and  could  do  much  work,  my  master  took  care  of  me 
and  gave  me  good  food ;  but  now  that  I  am  old,  and 
have  lost  all  my  strength  in  his  service,  he  overloads 
me  and  starves  me,  and  beats  me  without  mercy.  Let 
the  Tiger  eat  the  man,  for  men  are  an  unjust  and  cruel 
race." 


332  Old  Deccan  Days. 

The  Tiger  would  then  have  killed  the  Brahmin,  but 
the  latter  said,  "  Stop,  Tiger,  for  we  must  first  hear  the 
judgment  of  six." 

So  they  both  went  again  on  their  way.  At  a  little 
distance  they  found  a  Bullock  lying  by  the  roadside. 
The  Brahmin  said  to  him,  "  Brother  Bullock,  brother 
Bullock,  hear  and  give  judgment."  "  On  what  must  I 
give  judgment?"  asked  the  Bullock.  The  Brahmin 
answered,  "  I  found  this  Tiger  in  a  cage,  and  he  prayed 
me  to  open  the  door  and  let  him  out  to  drink  a  little 
water,  and  promised  not  to  kill  me  if  I  did  so ;  but 
when  I  had  let  him  out  he  resolved  to  put  me  to  death. 
Is  it  fair  he  should  do  so  or  no?"  The  Bullock  said, 
"  When  I  was  able  to  work  my  master  fed  me  well  and 
tended  me  carefully,  but  now  I  am  old  he  has  forgotten 
all  I  did  for  him,  and  left  me  by  the  roadside  to  die. 
Let  the  Tiger  eat  the  man,  for  men  have  no  pity." 

Three  out  of  the  six  had  given  judgment  against  the 
Brahmin,  but  still  he  did  not  lose  all  hope,  and  deter- 
mined to  ask  the  other  three. 

They  next  met  an  Eagle  flying  through  the  air,  to 
whom  the  Brahmin  cried,  "O  Eagle,  great  Eagle,  hear 
and  give  judgment?"  "On  what  must  I  give  judg- 
ment?" asked  the  Eagle.  The  Brahmin  stated  the 
case,  but  the  Eagle  answered,  "  Whenever  men  see  me 
they  try  to  shoot  me ;  they  climb  the  rocks  and  steal 
away  my  little  ones.  Let  the  Tiger  eat  the  man,  for 
men  are  the  persecutors  of  the  earth." 

Then  the  Tiger  began  to  roar,  and  said,  "  The  judg- 
ment of  all  is  against  you,  O  Brahmin."  But  the 
Brahmin  answered,  "  Stay  yet  a  little  longer,  for  two 
others  must  first  be  asked."  After  this  they  saw  an 
Alligator,  and  the  Brahmin  related  the  matter  to  him, 


The  Brahmin,  Tiger  and  Six  Judges.      223 

hoping  for  a  more  favorable  verdict.  But  the  Alliga- 
tor said,  "  Whenever  I  put  my  nose  out  of  the  water 
men  torment  me  and  try  to  kill  me.  Let  the  Tiger  eat 
the  man,  for  as  long  as  men  live  we  shall  have  no 
rest." 

The  Brahmin  gave  himself  up  as  lost ;  but  again  he 
prayed  the  Tiger  to  have  patience  and  let  him  ask  the 
opinion  of  the  sixth  judge.  Now  the  sixth  was  a 
Jackal.  The  Brahmin  told  his  story,  and  said  to  him, 
"  Mama*  Jackal,  mama  Jackal,  say  what  is  your  judg- 
ment?" The  Jackal  answered,  "It  is  impossible  for 
me  to  decide  who  is  in  the  right  and  who  in  the  wrong 
unless  I  see  the  exact  position  in  which  you  were  when 
the  dispute  began.  Show  me  the  place."  So  the 
Brahmin  and  the  Tiger  returned  to  the  place  where 
they  first  met,  and  the  Jackal  went  with  them.  When 
they  got  there,  the  Jackal  said,  "Now,  Brahmin,  show 
me  exactly  where  you  stood."  "  Here,"  said  the  Brah- 
min, standing  by  the  iron  tiger-cage.  "  Exactly  there, 
was  it?"  asked  the  Jackal.  "Exactly  here,"  replied 
the  Brahmin.  "  Where  was  the  Tiger,  then  ?"  asked 
the  Jackal.  "  In  the  cage,"  answered  the  Tiger. 
"  How  do  you  mean?"  said  the  Jackal ;  "  how  were  you 
within  the  cage?  which  way  were  you  looking?" 
"  Why,  I  stood  so,"  said  the  Tiger,  jumping  into  the 
cage,  "  and  my  head  was  on  this  side."  "  Very  good," 
said  the  Jackal,  "but  I  cannot  judge  without  under- 
standing the  whole  matter  exactly.  Was  the  cage  dooi 
open  or  shut?"  "  Shut  and  bolted,"  said  the  Brahmin. 
"  Then  shut  and  bolt  it,"  said  the  Jackal. 

When  the  Brahmin  had  done  this,  the  Jackal  said, 
"  Oh,  you  wicked  and  ungrateful  Tiger !  when  the 
*  Uncle. 


324 


Old  Deccan  Days. 


good  Brahmin  opened  your  cage  door,  is  to  eat  him  the 
only  return  you  would  make?  Stay  there,  then,  for 
the  rest  of  your  days,  for  no  one  will  ever  let  you  out 
again.  Proceed  on  your  journey,  friend  Brahmin. 
Your  road  lies  that  way  and  mine  this." 

So  saying,  the  Jackal  ran  off  in  one  direction,  and 
the  Brahmin  went  rejoicing  on  his  way  in  the  other. 


XV. 

SELFISH    SPARROW   AND    THE   HOUSE- 
LESS CROWS. 

A  SPARROW  once  built  a  nice  little  house  for 
herself,  and  lined  it  well  with  wool  and  protected 
it  with  sticks,  so  that  it  equally  resisted  the  summer  sun 
and  the  winter  rains.  A  Crow  who  lived  close  by  had 
also  built  a  house,  but  it  was  not  such  a  good  one, 
being  only  made  of  a  few  sticks  laid  one  above  another 
on  the  top  of  a  prickly  pear  hedge.  The  consequence 
was,  that  one  day,  when  there  was  an  unusually  heavy 
shower,  the  Crow's  nest  was  washed  away,  while  the 
Sparrow's  was  not  at  all  injured. 

In  this  extremity  the  Crow  and  her  mate  went  to  the 
Sparrow,  and  said,  "  Sparrow,  Sparrow,  have  pity  on 
us  and  give  us  shelter,  for  the  wind  blows  and  the  rain 
beats,  and  the  prickly  pear  hedge  thorns  stick  into  our 
eyes."  But  the  Sparrow  answered,  "  I'm  cooking  the 
dinner ;  I  cannot  let  you  in  now ;  come  again  pre- 
sently." In  a  little  while  the  Crows  returned,  and 
said,  "  Sparrow,  Sparrow,  have  pity  on  us  and  give  us 
shelter,  for  the  wind  blows  and  the  rain  beats,  and  the 
prickly  pear  hedge  thorns  stick  into  our  eyes."  The 
Sparrow  answered,  "  I'm  eating  my  dinner  ;  I  cannot 
let  you  in  now ;  come  again  presently."  The  Crows 
flew  away,  but  in  a  little  while  returned,  and  cried 
K  *  226 


226  Old  Deccan  Days. 

once  more,  "  Sparrow,  Sparrow,  have  pity  on  us  and 
give  us  shelter,  for  the  wind  blows  and  the  rain  beats, 
and  the  prickly  pear  hedge  thorns  stick  into  our  eyes." 
The  Sparrow  replied,  "  I'm  washing  the  dishes  ;  I  can- 
not let  you  in  now ;  come  again  presently."  The 
Crows  waited  a  while  and  then  called  out,  "  Sparrow, 
Sparrow,  have  pity  on  us  and  give  us  shelter,  for  the 
wind  blows  and  the  rain  beats,  and  the  prickly  pear 
hedge  thorns  stick  into  our  eyes."  But  the  Sparrow 
would  not  let  them  in  ;  she  only  answered,  "  I'm  sweep- 
ing the  floor ;  I  cannot  let  you  in  now ;  come  again 
presently."  Next  time  the  Crows  came  and  cried, 
"  Sparrow,  Sparrow,  have  pity  on  us  and  give  us 
shelter,  for  the  wind  blows  and  the  rain  beats,  and  the 
prickly  pear  hedge  thorns  stick  into  our  eyes."  She  an- 
swered, "  I'm  making  the  beds ;  I  cannot  let  you  in 
now  ;  come  again  presently."  So,  on  one  pretence  or 
another,  she  refused  to  help  the  poor  birds.  At  last, 
when  she  and  her  children  had  had  their  dinner,  and 
she  had  prepared  and  put  away  the  dinner  for  next 
day,  and  had  put  all  the  children  to  bed  and  gone  to 
bed  herself,  she  cried  to  the  Crows,  "  You  may  come 
in  now,  and  take  shelter  for  the  night."  The  Crows 
came  in,  but  they  were  much  vexed  at  having  been  kept 
out  so  long  in  the  wind  and  the  rain,  and  when  the 
Sparrow  and  all  her  family  were  asleep,  the  one  said 
to  the  other,  "  This  selfish  Sparrow  had  no  pity  on  us ; 
she  gave  us  no  dinner,  and  would  not  let  us  in  till  she 
and  all  her  children  were  comfortably  in  bed ;  let  us 
punish  her."  So  the  two  Crows  took  all  the  nice  din- 
ner the  Sparrow  had  prepared  for  herself  and  her  chil 
dren  to  eat  next  day,  and  flew  away  with  it 


XVI. 
THE    VALIANT  CHATTEE-MAKER. 

ONCE  upon  a  time,  in  a  violent  storm  of  thunder, 
lightning,  wind  and  rain,  a  Tiger  crept  for  shel- 
ter close  to  the  wall  of  an  old  woman's  hut.  This  old 
woman  was  very  poor,  and  her  hut  was  but  a  tumble- 
down place,  through  the  roof  of  which  the  rain  came 
drip,  drip,  drip  on  more  sides  than  one.  This  troubled 
her  much,  and  she  went  running  about  from  side  to 
side,  dragging  first  one  thing  and  then  another  out  of 
the  way  of  the  leaky  places  in  the  roof,  and  as  she  did 
so  she  kept  saying  to  herself,  "  Oh  dear !  oh  dear ! 
how  tiresome  this  is !  I'm  sure  the  roof  will  come 
down  !  If  an  elephant,  or  a  lion,  or  a  tiger  were  to 
walk  in,  he  wouldn't  frighten  me  half  so  much  as  this 
perpetual  dripping."  And  then  she  would  begin  drag- 
ging the  bed  and  all  the  other  things  in  the  room  about 
again,  to  get  them  out  of  the  way  of  the  wet.  The 
Tiger,  who  was  crouching  down  just  outside,  heard  all 
that  she  said,  and  thought  to  himself,  "  This  old  woman 
says  she  would  not  be  afraid  of  an  elephant,  or  a  lion, 
or  a  tiger,  but  that  this  perpetual  dripping  frightens  her 
more  than  all.  What  can  this  '  perpetual  dripping* 
be  ? — it  must  be  something  very  dreadful."  And  hear- 
ing her  immediately  afterward  dragging  all  the  things 


228  Old  Deccan  Days. 

about  the  room  again,  he  said  to  himself,  "  What  air- 
rible  noise  !  Surely  that  must  be  the  '•perpetual  drip- 
ping:" 

At  this  moment  a  Chattee-maker,*  who  was  in 
search  of  his  donkey,  which  had  strayed  away,  came 
down  the  road.  The  night  being  very  cold,  he  had, 
truth  to  say,  taken  a  little  more  toddy  than  was  good 
for  him,  and  seeing,  by  the  light  of  a  flash  of  lightning, 
a  large  animal  lying  down  close  to  the  old  woman's 
hut,  he  mistook  it  for  the  donkey  he  was  looking  for. 
So,  running  up  to  the  Tiger,  he  seized  hold  of  it  by 
one  ear,  and  commenced  beating,  kicking  and  abusing 
it  with  all  his  might  and  main.  "  You  wretched  crea- 
ture !"  he  cried,  "  is  this  the  way  you  serve  me,  oblig- 
ing me  to  come  out  and  look  for  you  in  such  pouring 
rain  and  on  such  a  dark  night  as  this?  Get  up  in- 
stantly, or  I'll  break  every  bone  in  your  body ;"  so  he 
went  on  scolding  and  thumping  the  Tiger  with  his 
utmost  power,  for  he  had  worked  himself  up  into  a 
terrible  rage.  The  Tiger  did  not  know  what  to  make 
of  it  all,  but  he  began  to  feel  quite  frightened,  and  said 
to  himself,  "  Why,  this  must  be  the  '  perpetual  drip- 
ping ;'  no  wonder  the  old  woman  said  she  was  more 
afraid  of  it  than  of  an  elephant,  a  lion,  or  a  tiger,  for 
it  gives  most  dreadfully  hard  blows." 

The  Chattee-maker,  having  made  the  Tiger  get  up, 
got  on  his  back  and  forced  him  to  carry  him  home, 
kicking  and  beating  him  the  whole  way,  for  all  this 
time  he  fancied  he  was  on  his  donkey ;  and  then  he 
tied  his  fore  feet  and  his  head  firmly  together,  and  fas- 
tened him  to  a  post  in  front  of  his  house,  and  when  he 
had  done  this  he  went  to  bed. 
*  Potter. 


The    Valiant   Chattee- Maker.  229 

Next  morning,  when  the  Chattee-maker*s  wife  got 
up  and  looked  out  of  the  window,  what  did  she  see 
but  a  great  big  Tiger  tied  up  in  front  of  their  house,  to 
the  post  to  which  they  usually  fastened  the  donkey : 
she  was  very  much  surprised,  and  running  to  her  hus- 
band, awoke  him,  saying,  "Do  you  know  what  animal 
you  fetched  home  last  night?"  "Yes,  the  donkey  to 
be  sure,"  he  answered.  "  Come  and  see,"  said  she, 
and  she  showed  him  the  great  Tiger  tied  to  the  post. 
The  Chattee-maker  at  this  was  no  less  astonished  than 
his  wife,  and  felt  himself  all  over  to  find  if  the  Tiger 
had  not  wounded  him.  But,  no !  there  he  was  safe 
and  sound,  and  there  was  the  Tiger  tied  to  the  post, 
just  as  he  had  fastened  it  up  the  night  before. 

News  of  the  Chattee-maker's  exploit  soon  spread 
through  the  village,  and  all  the  people  came  to  see  him 
and  hear  him  tell  how  he  had  caught  the  Tiger  and 
tied  it  to  the  post ;  and  this  they  thought  so  wonderful 
that  they  sent  a  deputation  to  the  Rajah,  with  a  letter 
to  tell  him  how  a  man  of  their  village  had,  alone  and 
unarmed,  caught  a  great  Tiger  and  tied  it  to  a  post. 

When  the  Rajah  read  the  letter  he  also  was  much 
surprised,  and  determined  to  go  in  person  and  see  this 
astonishing  sight.  So  he  sent  for  his  horses  and  car- 
riages, his  lords  and  attendants,  and  they  all  set  off 
together  to  look  at  the  Chattee-maker  and  the  Tiger  he 
had  caught. 

Now  the  Tiger  was  a  very  large  one,  and  had  long 
been  the  terror  of  all  the  country  round,  which  made 
the  whole  matter  still  more  extraordinary ;  and  all  this 
being  represented  to  the  Rajah,  he  determined  to  con- 
fer all  possible  honor  on  the  valiant  Chattee-maker. 
So  he  gave  him  houses  and  lands,  and  as  much  money 
20 


*3<>  Old  Dcccan  Days. 

as  would  fill  a  well,  made  him  a  lord  of  his  court,  and 
conferred  on  him  the  command  of  ten  thousand  horse. 

It  came  to  pass,  shortly  after  this,  that  a  neighboring 
Rajah,  who  had  long  had  a  quarrel  with  this  one,  sent 
to  announce  his  intention  of  going  instantly  to  war  with 
him  ;  and  tidings  were  at  the  same  time  brought  that 
the  Rajah  who  sent  the  challenge  had  gathered  a  great 
army  together  on  the  borders,  and  was  prepared  at  a 
moment's  notice  to  invade  the  country. 

In  this  dilemma  no  one  knew  what  to  do.  The  Rajah 
sent  for  all  his  generals,  and  inquired  of  them  which 
would  be  willing  to  take  command  of  his  forces  and 
oppose  the  enemy.  They  all  replied  that  the  country 
was  so  ill-prepared  for  the  emergency,  and  the  case  was 
apparently  so  hopeless,  that  they  would  rather  not  take 
the  responsibility  of  the  chief  command.  The  Rajah 
knew  not  whom  to  appoint  in  their  stead.  Then  some  of 
his  people  said  to  him,  "You  have  lately  given  the  com- 
mand of  ten  thousand  horse  to  the  valiant  Chattee- 
maker  who  caught  the  Tiger:  why  not  make  him 
commander-in-chief  ?  A  man  who  could  catch  a  Tiger 
and  tie  him  to  a  post,  must  surely  be  more  courageous 
and  clever  than  most."  "  Very  well,"  said  the  Rajah, 
"I  will  make  him  commander-in-chief."  So  he  sent 
for  the  Chattee-maker  and  said  to  him,  "  In  your  hands 
I  place  all  the  power  of  the  kingdom ;  you  must  put 
our  enemies  to  flight  for  us."  "  So  be  it,"  answered 
the  Chattee-maker  ;  "  but,  before  I  lead  the  whole  arrr.y 
against  the  enemy,  suffer  me  to  go  by  myself  and  ex- 
amine their  position,  and,  if  possible,  find  out  their 
numbers  and  strength." 

The  Rajah  consented,  and  the  Chattee-maker  returned 
home  to  his  wife,  and  said:  "They  have  made  me 


The    Valiant   Chattee-Maker.  231 

commander-in-chief,  which  is  a  very  difficult  post  for 
me  to  fill,  because  I  shall  have  to  ride  at  the  head  of 
all  the  army,  and  you  know  I  never  was  on  a  horse  in 
my  life.  But  I  have  succeeded  in  gaining  a  little  delay, 
as  the  Rajah  has  given  me  permission  to  go  first  alone 
and  reconnoitre  the  enemy's  camp.  Do  you  therefore 
provide  a  very  quiet  pony,  for  you  know  I  cannot  ride, 
and  I  will  start  to-morrow  morning." 

But,  before  the  Chattee-maker  had  started,  the  Rajah 
sent  over  to  him  a  most  magnificent  charger  richly 
caparisoned,  which  he  begged  he  would  ride  when 
going  to  see  the  enemy's  camp.  The  Chattee-maker 
was  frightened  almost  out  of  his  life,  for  the  charger 
that  the  Rajah  had  sent  him  was  very  powerful  and 
spirited,  and  he  felt  sure  that  even  if  he  ever  got  on  it, 
he  should  very  soon  tumble  off;  however,  he  did  not 
dare  to  refuse  it,  for  fear  of  offending  the  Rajah  by  not 
accepting  his  present.  So  he  sent  back  to  him  a  mes- 
sage of  thanks,  and  said  to  his  wife,  "  I  cannot  go  on 
the  pony,  now  that  the  Rajah  has  sent  me  this  fine 
horse  ;  but  how  am  I  ever  to  ride  it?  *'  "  Oh,  don't  be 
frightened,"  she  answered ;  "  you've  only  got  to  get 
upon  it,  and  I  will  tie  you  firmly  on,  so  that  you  cannot 
tumble  off,  and  if  you  start  at  night,  no  one  will  see 
that  you  are  tied  on."  "  Very  well,"  he  said.  So  that 
night  his  wife  brought  the  horse  that  the  Rajah  had  sent 
him  to  the  door.  "  Indeed,"  said  the  Chattee-maker, 
"  I  can  never  get  into  that  saddle,  it  is  so  high  up." 
"  You  must  jump,"  said  his  wife.  So  he  tried  to  jump 
several  times,  but  each  time  he  jumped  he  tumbled  down 
again.  "  I  always  forget  when  I  am  jumping,"  said 
he,  "  which  way  I  ought  to  turn."  "  Your  face  must 
be  toward  the  horse's  head,"  she  answered.  "  To  be 


332  Old  Deccan  Days. 

sure,  of  course,"  he  cried,  and  giving  one  great  jump 
he  jumped  into  the  saddle,  but  with  his  face  toward  the 
horse's  tail.  "  This  won't  do  at  all,"  said  his  wife  as 
she  helped  him  down  again  ;  "  try  getting  on  without 
jumping."  "  I  never  can  remember,"  he  continued, 
"  when  I  have  got  my  left  foot  in  the  stirrup,  what  to 
do  with  my  right  foot  or  where  to  put  it."  "  That  must 
go  in  the  other  stirrup,"  she  answered ;  "  let  me  help 
you."  So,  after  many  trials,  in  which  he  tumbled  down 
very  often,  for  the  horse  was  fresh  and  did  not  like 
standing  still,  the  Chattee-maker  got  into  the  saddle  ; 
but  no  sooner  had  he  got  there  than  he  cried,  "  Oh, 
wife,  wife  !  tie  me  very  firmly  as  quickly  as  possible, 
for  I  know  I  shall  jump  down  if  I  can."  Then  she 
fetched  some  strong  rope  and  tied  his  feet  firmly  into 
the  stirrups,  and  fastened  one  stirrup  to  the  other,  and 
put  another  rope  round  his  waist  and  another  round  his 
neck,  and  fastened  them  to  the  horse's  body  and  neck 
and  tail. 

When  the  horse  felt  all  these  ropes  about  him  he 
could  not  imagine  what  queer  creature  had  got  upon 
his  back,  and  he  began  rearing  and  kicking  and  pran- 
cing, and  at  last  set  off  full  gallop,  as  fast  as  he  could 
tear,  right  across  country.  "  Wife,  wife  !  "  cried  the 
Chattee-maker,  "  you  forgot  to  tie  my  hands."  "  Never 
mind,"  said  she ;  "  hold  on  by  the  mane."  So  he 
caught  hold  of  the  horse's  mane  as  firmly  as  he  could. 
Then  away  went  horse,  away  went  Chattee-maker — 
away,  away,  away,  over  hedges,  over  ditches,  over 
rivers,  over  plains — away,  away,  like  a  flash  of  light- 
ning— now  this  way,  now  that— on,  on,  on,  gallop, 
gallop,  gallop — until  they  came  in  sight  of  the  enemy's 
camp. 


The    Valiant  Chattee-Maker.  233 

The  Chattee-maker  did  not  like  his  ride  at  all,  and 
when  he  saw  where  it  was  leading  him  he  liked  it  still 
less,  for  he  thought  the  enemy  would  catch  him  and 
very  likely  kill  him.  So  he  determined  to  make  one 
desperate  effort  to  be  free,  and  stretching  out  his  hand 
as  the  horse  shot  past  a  young  banyan  tree,  seized  hold 
of  it  with  all  his  might,  hoping  that  the  resistance  it 
offered  might  cause  the  ropes  that  tied  him  to  break. 
But  the  horse  was  going  at  his  utmost  speed,  and  the 
soil  in  which  the  banyan  tree  grew  was  loose,  so  that 
when  the  Chattee-maker  caught  hold  of  it  and  gave  it 
such  a  violent  pull,  it  came  up  by  the  roots,  and  on  he 
rode  as  fast  as  before,  with  the  tree  in  his  hand. 

All  the  soldiers  in  the  camp  saw  him  coming,  and 
having  heard  that  an  army  was  to  be  sent  against  them, 
made  sure  that  the  Chattee-maker  was  one  of  the  van- 
guard. "  See,"  cried  they,  "  here  comes  a  man  of 
gigantic  stature  on  a  mighty  horse !  He  rides  at  full 
speed  across  the  country,  tearing  up  the  very  trees  in 
his  rage  !  He  is  one  of  the  opposing  force  ;  the  whole 
army  must  be  close  at  hand.  If  they  are  such  as  he, 
we  are  all  dead  men."  Then,  running  to  their  Rajah, 
some  of  them  cried  again,  "  Here  comes  the  whole 
force  of  the  enemy "  (for  the  story  had  by  this  time 
become  exaggerated)  ;  "  they  are  men  of  gigantic  stat- 
ure, mounted  on  mighty  horses  ;  as  they  come  they  tear 
up  the  very  trees  in  their  rage  ;  we  can  oppose  men, 
but  not  monsters  such  as  these."  These  were  followed 
by  others,  who  said,  "  It  is  all  true,"  for  by  this  time 
the  Chattee-maker  had  got  pretty  near  the  camp ; 

'•hey're  coming !  they're  coming !  let  us  fly !  let  us 
fl>  .  fly,  fly  for  your  lives ! "  And  the  whole  panic- 
stricken  multitude  fled  from  the  camp  (those  who  had 
20  » 


234  OM  Deccan  Days. 

seen  no  cause  for  alarm  going  because  the  others  did, 
or  because  they  did  not  care  to  stay  by  themselves), 
after  having  obliged  their  Rajah  to  write  a  letter  to  the 
one  whose  country  he  was  about  to  invade  to  say  that 
he  would  not  do  so,  and  propose  terms  of  peace,  and 
to  sign  it  and  seal  it  with  his  seal.  Scarcely  had  all 
the  people  fled  from  the  camp  when  the  horse  on  which 
the  Chattee-maker  was  came  galloping  into  it,  and  on 
his  back  rode  the  Chattee-maker,  almost  dead  from 
fatigue,  with  the  banyan  tree  in  his  hand :  just  as  he 
reached  the  camp  the  ropes  by  which  he  was  tied  broke, 
and  he  fell  to  the  ground.  The  horse  stood  still,  too 
tired  with  his  long  run  to  go  farther.  On  recovering 
his  senses,  the  Chattee-maker  found,  to  his  surprise, 
that  the  whole  camp,  full  of  rich  arms,  clothes  and 
trappings,  was  entirely  deserted.  In  the  principal  tent, 
moreover,  he  found  a  letter  addressed  to  his  Rajah, 
announcing  the  retreat  of  the  invading  army  and  pro- 
posing terms  of  peace. 

So  he  took  the  letter,  and  returned  home  with  it  as 
fast  as  he  could,  leading  his  horse  all  the  way,  for  he 
was  afraid  to  mount  him  again.  It  did  not  take  him 
long  to  reach  his  house  by  the  direct  road,  for  whilst 
tiding  he  had  gone  a  more  circuitous  journey  than  was 
necessary,  and  he  got  there  just  at  nightfall.  His  wife 
ran  out  to  meet  him,  overjoyed  at  his  speedy  return. 
As  soon  as  he  saw  her,  he  said,  "  Ah,  wife,  since  I  saw 
you  last  I've  been  all  round  the  world,  and  had  many 
wonderful  and  terrible  adventures.  But  never  mind  that 
now :  send  this  letter  quickly  to  the  Rajah  by  a  mes- 
senger, and  send  the  horse  also  that  he  sent  for  me 
u  ride.  He  will  then  see,  by  the  horse  looking  so 
tired,  what  a  long  ride  I've  had ;  and  if  he  is  sent  on 


The    Valiant   Chattee- Maker.  235 

beforehand,  I  shall  not  be  obliged  to  ride  him  up  to  the 
palace  door  to-morrow  morning,  as  I  otherwise  should, 
and  that  would  be  very  tiresome,  for  most  likely  I 
should  tumble  off."  So  his  wife  sent  the  horse  and  the 
letter  to  the  Rajah,  and  a  message  that  her  husband 
would  be  at  the  palace  early  next  morning,  as  it  was 
then  late  at  night.  And  next  day  he  went  down  there, 
as  he  had  said  he  would ;  and  when  the  people  saw 
him  coming,  they  said,  "  This  man  is  as  modest  as  he 
is  brave  ;  after  having  put  our  enemies  to  flight,  he 
walks  quite  simply  to  the  door,  instead  of  riding  here 
in  state,  as  another  man  would."  For  they  did  not 
:now  that  the  Chattee-maker  walked  because  he  was 
afraid  to  ride. 

The  Rajah  came  to  the  palace  door  to  meet  him,  and 
paid  him  all  possible  honor.  Terms  of  peace  were 
agreed  upon  between  the  two  countries,  and  the  Chatte- 
maker  was  rewarded  for  all  he  had  done  by  being 
given  twice  as  much  rank  and  wealth  as  he  had  before, 
and  he  lived  very  happily  all  the  rest  of  his  life. 


XVII. 
THE   RAKSHAS'   PALACE. 

ONCE  upon  a  time  there  lived  a  Rajah  who  was 
left  a  widower  with  two  little  daughters.  Not 
very  long  after  his  first  wife  died  he  married  again,  and 
his  second  wife  did  not  care  for  her  step-children,  and 
was  often  unkind  to  them  ;  and  the  Rajah,  their  father, 
never  troubled  himself  to  look  after  them,  but  allowed 
his  wife  to  treat  them  as  she  liked.  This  made  the 
poor  girls  very  miserable,  and  one  day  one  of  them 
said  to  the  other,  "  Don't  let  us  remain  any  longer 
here  ;  come  away  into  the  jungle,  for  nobody  here  cares 
whether  we  go  or  stay."  So  they  both  walked  off  into 
the  jungle,  and  lived  for  many  days  on  the  jungle  fruits. 
At  last,  after  they  had  wandered  on  for  a  long  while, 
they  came  to  a  fine  palace  which  belonged  to  a  Rakshas, 
but  both  the  Rakshas  and  his  wife  were  out  when  they 
got  there.  Then  one  of  the  Princesses  said  to  the 
other,  "  This  fine  palace,  in  the  midst  of  the  jungle,  can 
belong  to  no  one  but  a  Rakshas,  but  the  owner  has 
evidently  gone  out ;  let  us  go  in  and  see  if  we  can  find 
anything  to  eat."  So  they  went  into  the  Rakshas' 
house,  and  finding  some  rice,  boiled  and  ate  it.  Then 
they  swept  the  room  and  arranged  all  the  furniture  in 
the  house  tidily.  But  hardly  had  they  finished  doing 
BO  when  the  Rakshas  and  his  wife  returned  home. 


The  Rakshas'  Palace.  237 

Then  the  two  Princesses  were  so  frightened  that  they 
ran  up  to  the  top  of  the  house  and  hid  themselves  on 
the  flat  roof,  from  whence  they  could  look  down  on  one 
side  into  the  inner  courtyard  of  the  house,  and  from 
the  other  could  see  the  open  country.  The  house-top 
was  a  favorite  resort  of  the  Rakshas  and  his  wife.  Here 
they  would  sit  upon  the  hot  summer  evenings  ;  here  they 
winnowed  the  grain  and  hung  out  the  clothes  to  dry ; 
and  the  two  Princesses  found  a  sufficient  shelter  behind 
some  sheaves  of  corn  that  were  waiting  to  be  threshed. 
When  the  Rakshas  came  into  the  house,  he  looked 
round  and  said  to  his  wife,  "  Somebody  has  been 
arranging  the  house,  everything  in  it  is  so  clean  and 
tidy.  Wife,  did  you  do  this?"  "No,"  she  said;  "1 
don't  know  who  can  have  done  all  this."  "  Some  one 
also  has  been  sweeping  the  courtyard,"  continued  the 
Rakshas.  "Wife,  did  you  sweep  the  courtyard?* 
"  No."  she  answered,  "  I  did  not  do  it.  I  don't  kno^ 
who  did."  Then  the  Rakshas  walked  round  and  round 
several  times  with  his  nose  up  in  the  air,  saying, 
"  Some  one  is  here  now.  I  smell  flesh  and  blood ! 
Where  can  they  be?"  "Stuff  and  nonsense!"  cried 
his  wife.  "  You  smell  blood  indeed  !  Why,  you  have 
just  been  killing  and  eating  a  hundred  thousand  peo- 
ple. I  should  wonder  if  you  didn't  still  smell  flesh 
and  blood !"  They  went  on  quarreling  thus  until 
the  Rakshas  said,  "  Well,  never  mind ;  I  don't  know 
how  it  is,  but  I'm  very  thirsty ;  lef  s  come  and  drink 
some  water."  So  both  the  Rakshas  and  his  wife 
went  to  a  well  which  was  close  to  the  house,  and 
began  letting  down  jars  into  it,  and  drawing  up  the 
water  and  drinking  it.  And  the  Princesses,  who  were 
on  the  top  of  the  house,  saw  them.  Now  the  youngest 


238  Old  Deccan  Days. 

of  the  two  Princesses  was  a  very  wise  girl,  and  when 
she  saw  the  Rakshas  and  his  wife  by  the  well,  she  said 
to  her  sister,  "  I  will  do  something  now  that  will  be 
good  for  us  both ;"  and,  running  down  quickly  fron* 
the  top  of  the  house,  she  crept  close  behind  the  Rak- 
shas and  his  wife  as  they  stood  on  tip-toe  more  than 
half  ovei  the  side  of  the  well,  and,  catching  hold  of 
one  of  the  Rakshas'  heels  and  one  of  his  wife's,  gave 
each  a  little  push,  and  down  they  both  tumbled  into  the 
well  and  were  drowned — the  Rakshas  and  the  Rakshas' 
wife !  The  Princess  then  returned  to  her  sister  and 
said,  "I  have  killed  the  Rakshas."  "What,  both?" 
cried  her  sister.  "Yes,  both,"  she  said.  "Won't 
they  come  back  ?"  said  her  sister.  "  No,  never,"  an- 
swered she. 

The  Rakshas  being  thus  killed,  the  two  Princesses 
took  possession  of  the  house,  and  lived  there  very  hap- 
pily for  a  long  time.  In  it  they  found  heaps  and  heaps 
of  rich  clothes  and  jewels,  and  gold  and  silver,  which 
the  Rakshas  had  taken  from  people  he  had  murdered  ; 
and  all  round  the  house  were  folds  for  the  flocks  and 
sheds  for  the  herds  of  cattle  which  the  Rakshas  owned. 
Every  morning  the  youngest  Princess  used  to  drive  out 
the  flocks  and  herds  to  pasturage,  and  return  home 
with  them  every  night,  while  the  eldest  stayed  at  home, 
cooked  the  dinner  and  kept  the  house  ;  and  the  young- 
est Princess,  who  was  the  cleverest,  would  often  say  to 
her  sister,  on  going  away  for  the  day,  "  Take  care,  if 
you  see  any  stranger  (be  it  man,  woman  or  child) 
come  by  the  house,  to  hide,  if  possible,  that  nobody 
may  know  of  our  living  here ;  and  if  any  one  should 
call  out  and  ask  for  a  drink  of  water,  or  any  poor 
beggar  pray  for  food,  before  you  give  it  him  be  sure 


The  Raksha?  Palace.  239 

you  put  on  ragged  clothes  and  cover  your  face  with 
charcoal,  and  make  yourself  look  as  ugly  as  possible, 
lest,  seeing  how  fair  you  are,  he  should  steal  you 
away,  and  we  never  meet  again."  "  Very  well,"  the 
other  Princess  would  answer,  "  I  will  do  as  you  advise." 
But  a  long  time  passed,  and  no  one  ever  came  by 
that  way.  At  last  one  day,  after  the  youngest  Princess 
had  gone  out,  a  young  Prince,  the  son  of  a  neighboring 
Rajah,  who  had  been  hunting  with  his  attendants  for 
many  days  in  the  jungles,  came  near  the  place  when 
searching  for  water  (for  he  and  his  people  were  tired 
with  hunting,  and  had  been  seeking  all  through  the 
jungle  for  a  stream  of  water,  but  could  find  none). 
When  the  Prince  saw  the  fine  palace  standing  all  by 
itself,  he  was  very  much  astonished,  and  said,  "It  is  a 
strange  thing  that  any  one  should  have  built  such  a 
house  as  this  in  the  depths  of  the  forest.  Let  us  go  in  ; 
the  owners  will  doubtless  give  us  a  drink  of  water." 
"No,  no,  do  not  go,"  cried  his  attendants;  "this  is 
most  likely  the  house  of  a  Rakshas."  "  We  can  but 
see,"  answered  the  Prince.  "  I  should  scarcely  think 
anything  very  terrible  lived  here,  for  there  is  not  a 
sound  stirring  nor  a  living  creature  to  be  seen."  So 
he  began  tapping  at  the  door,  which  was  bolted,  and 
crying,  "  Will  whoever  owns  this  house  give  me  and 
my  people  some  water  to  drink,  for  the  sake  of  kind 
charity?"  But  nobody  answered,  for  the  Princess, 
who  heard  him,  was  busy  up  in  her  room,  blacking  her 
face  with  charcoal  and  covering  her  rich  dress  with 
rags.  Then  the  Prince  got  impatient  and  shook  the 
door,  saying,  angrily,  "Let  me  in,  whoever  you  are ! 
If  you  don't,  I'll  force  the  door  open."  At  this  the 
poor  little  Princess  got  dreadfully  frightened ;  and  hav- 


340  Old  Deccan  Days. 

ing  blacked  her  face  and  made  herself  look  as  ugly  as 
possible,  she  ran  down  stairs  with  a  pitcher  of  water, 
and  unbolting  the  door,  gave  the  Prince  the  pitcher  to 
drink  from  ;  but  she  did  not  speak,  for  she  was  afraid. 
Now  the  Prince  was  a  very  clever  man,  and  as  he 
raised  the  pitcher  to  his  mouth  to  drink  the  water,  he 
thought  to  himself,  "  This  is  a  very  strange-looking 
creature  who  has  brought  me  this  jug  of  water.  She 
would  be  pretty,  but  that  her  face  seems  to  want  wash- 
ing, and  her  dress  also  is  very  untidy.  What  can  that 
black  stuff  be  on  her  face  and  hands  ?  it  looks  very  un- 
natural." And  so  thinking  to  himself,  instead  of 
drinking  the  water,  he  threw  it  in  the  Princess'  face  ! 
The  Princess  started  back  with  a  little  cry,  whilst  the 
water,  trickling  down  her  face,  washed  off  the  char- 
coal, and  showed  her  delicate  features  and  beautiful, 
fair  complexion.  The  Prince  caught  hold  of  her  hand, 
and  said,  "Now  tell  me  true,  who  are  you?  where  do 
you  come  from?  Who  are  your  father  and  mother? 
and  why  are  you  here  alone  by  yourself  in  the  jungle  ? 
Answer  me,  or  I'll  cut  your  head  off."  And  he  made 
as  if  he  would  draw  his  sword.  The  Princess  was  so 
terrified  she  could  hardly  speak,  but  as  best  she  could 
she  told  how  she  was  the  daughter  of  a  Rajah,  and  had 
run  away  into  the  jungle  because  of  her  cruel  step- 
mother, and,  finding  the  house,  had  lived  there  ever 
since ;  and  having  finished  her  story,  she  began  to  cry. 
Then  the  Prince  said  to  her,  "  Pretty  lady,  forgive  me 
for  my  roughness ;  do  not  fear ;  I  will  take  you  home 
with  me,  and  you  shall  be  my  wife."  But  the  more  he 
spoke  to  her  the  more  frightened  she  got.  So  fright- 
ened that  she  did  not  understand  what  he  said,  and 
could  do  nothing  but  cry.  Now  she  had  said  nothing 


The  Rakshaf  Palace.  241 

to  the  Prince  about  her  sister,  nor  even  told  him  that 
she  had  one,  for  she  thought,  "  This  man  says  he  will 
kill  me  ;  if  he  hears  that  I  have  a  sister,  he  will  kill 
her  too."  So  the  Prince,  who  was  really  kind-hearted, 
and  would  never  have  thought  of  separating  the  two 
little  sisters  who  had  been  together  so  long,  knew  no- 
thing at  all  of  the  matter,  and  only  seeing  she  was  too 
much  alarmed  even  to  understand  gentle  words,  said 
to  his  servants,  "  Place  this  lady  in  one  of  the  palkees, 
and  let  us  set  off  home."  And  they  did  so.  When 
the  Princess  found  herself  shut  up  in  the  palkee,  and 
being  carried  she  knew  not  where,  she  thought  how 
terrible  it  would  be  for  her  sister  to  return  home  and 
find  her  gone,  and  determined,  if  possible,  to  leave 
some  sign  to  show  her  which  way  she  had  been  taken. 
Round  her  neck  were  many  strings  of  pearls.  She 
untied  them,  and  tearing  her  saree  into  little  bits,  tied 
one  pearl  in  each  piece  of  the  saree,  that  it  might  be 
heavy  enough  to  fall  straight  to  the  ground ;  and  so 
she  went  on,  dropping  one  pearl  and  then  another  and 
another  and  another,  all  the  way  she  went  along,  until 
they  reached  the  palace  where  the  Rajah  and  Ranee, 
the  Prince's  father  and  mother,  lived.  She  threw  the 
last  remaining  pearl  down  just  as  she  reached  the 
palace  gate.  The  old  Rajah  and  Ranee  were  delighted 
to  see  the  beautiful  Princess  their  son  had  brought 
home  ;  and  when  they  heard  her  story  they  said,  "  Ah, 
poor  thing !  what  a  sad  story !  but  now  she  has  come 
to  live  with  us,  we  will  do  all  we  can  to  make  her 
happy."  And  they  married  her  to  their  son  with  great 
pomp  and  ceremony,  and  gave  her  rich  dresses  and 
jewels,  and  were  very  kind  to  her.  But  the  Princess 
remained  sad  and  unhappy,  for  she  was  always  think- 
21  L 


242  Old  Deccan  Days. 

ing  about  her  sister,  and  yet  she  could  not  summon 
courage  to  beg  the  Prince  or  his  father  to  send  and 
fetch  her  to  the  palace. 

Meantime  the  youngest  Princess,  who  had  been  out 
with  her  flocks  and  herds  when  the  Prince  took  her 
sister  away,  had  returned  home.  When  she  came 
back  she  found  the  door  wide  open  and  no  one  stand- 
ing there.  She  thought  it  very  odd,  for  her  sister  al- 
ways came  every  night  to  the  door  to  meet  Ijgr  on  her 
return.  She  went  up  stairs ;  her  sister  was  not  there  ; 
the  whole  house  was  empty  and  deserted.  There  she 
must  stay  all  alone,  for  the  evening  had  closed  in,  and 
it  was  impossible  to  go  outside  and  seek  her  with  any 
hope  of  success.  So  all  the  night  long  she  waited,  cry 
ing,  "  Some  one  has  been  here,  and  they  have  stolen 
her  away ;  they  have  stolen  my  darling  away.  O  sis- 
ter !  sister !"  Next  morning,  very  early,  going  out  to 
continue  the  search,  she  found  one  of  the  pearls  be- 
longing to  her  sister's  necklace  tied  up  in  a  small  piece 
of  saree ;  a  little  farther  on  lay  another,  and  yet 
another,  all  along  the  road  the  Prince  had  gone. 
Then  the  Princess  understood  that  her  sister  had  left 
this  clue  to  guide  her  on  her  way,  and  she  at  once  set 
off  to  find  her  again.  Very,  very  far  she  went — a  six 
months'  journey  through  the  jungle,  for  she  could  not 
travel  fast,  the  many  days'  walking  tired  her  so  much — 
and  sometimes  it  took  her  two  or  three  days  to  find  the 
next  piece  of  saree  with  the  pearl.  At  last  she  came 
near  a  large  town,  to  which  it  was  evident  her  sister 
had  been  taken.  Now  this  young  Princess  was  very 
beautiful  indeed — as  beautiful  as  she  was  wise — and 
when  she  got  near  the  town  she  thought  to  herself,  "  If 
people  see  me,  they  may  steal  me  away,  as  they  did  my 


The  Rakshas*  Palace.  243 

sister,  and  then  I  shall  never  find  her  again.  I  will 
therefore  disguise  myself."  As  she  was  thus  thinking 
she  saw  by  the  side  of  the  road  the  corpse  of  a  poor 
old  beggar  woman,  who  had  evidently  died  from  want 
and  poverty.  The  body  was  shriveled  up,  and  nothing 
of  it  remained  but  the  skin  and  bones.  The  Princess 
took  the  skin  and  washed  it,  and  drew  it  on  over  her 
own  lovely  face  and  neck,  as  one  draws  a  glove  on 
one's  hand.  Then  she  took  a  long  stick  and  began 
hobbling  along,  leaning  on  it,  toward  the  town.  The 
old  woman's  skin  was  all  crumpled  and  withered,  and 
people  who  passed  by  only  thought,  "  What  an  ugly 
old  woman  !"  and  never  dreamed  of  the  false  skin  and 
the  beautiful,  handsome  girl  inside.  So  on  she  went, 
picking  up  the  pearls — one  here,  one  there — until  she 
found  the  last  pearl  just  in  front  of  the  palace  gate. 
Then  she  felt  certain  her  sister  must  be  somewhere 
near,  but  where  she  did  not  know.  She  longed  to  go 
into  the  palace  and  ask  for  her,  but  no  guards  would 
have  let  such  a  wretched-looking  old  woman  enter,  and 
she  did  not  dare  offer  them  any  of  the  pearls  she  had 
with  her,  lest  they  should  think  she  was  a  thief.  So 
she  determined  merely  to  remain  as  close  to  the  palace 
as  possible,  and  wait  till  fortune  favored  her  with  the 
means  of  learning  something  further  about  her  sister. 
Just  opposite  the  palace  was  a  small  house  belonging 
to  a  farmer,  and  the  Princess  went  up  to  it  and  stood 
by  the  door.  The  farmer's  wife  saw  her  and  said, 
"  Poor  old  woman,  who  are  you?  what  do  you  want? 
why  are  you  here?  Have  you  no  friends?"  "Alas, 
no !"  answered  the  Princess.  "  I  am  a  poor  old 
woman,  and  have  neither  father  nor  mother,  son  nor 
daughter,  sister  nor  brother,  to  take  care  of  me ;  all 


244  O*d  Deccan  Days. 

are  gone  ?  and  I  can  only  beg  my  bread  from  door  to 
door  " 

"  Do  not  grieve,  good  mother,"  answered  the  farm- 
er's wife,  kindly.  "  You  may  sleep  in  the  shelter  of 
our  porch,  and  I  will  give  you  some  food."  So  the 
Princess  stayed  there  for  that  night  and  for  many  more  ; 
and  every  day  the  good  farmer's  wife  gave  her  food. 
But  all  this  time  she  could  learn  nothing  of  her  sister. 

Now  there  was  a  large  tank  near  the  palace,  on 
which  grew  some  fine  lotus  plants,  covered  with  rich 
crimson  lotuses — the  royal  flower — and  of  these  the 
Rajah  was  very  fond  indeed,  and  prized  them  very 
much.  To  this  tank  (because  it  was  the  nearest  to  the 
farmer's  house)  the  Princess  used  to  go  every  morning, 
very  early,  almost  before  it  was  light,  at  about  three 
o'clock,  and  take  off  the  old  woman's  skin  and  wash 
it,  and  hang  it  out  to  dry,  and  wash  her  face  and  hands, 
and  bathe  her  feet  in  the  cool  water,  and  comb  her 
beautiful  hair.  Then  she  would  gather  a  lotus  flower 
(such  as  she  had  been  accustomed  to  wear  in  her  hair 
from  a  child)  and  put  it  on,  so  as  to  feel  for  a  few  min- 
utes like  herself  again !  Thus  she  would  amuse  her- 
self. Afterward,  as  soon  as  the  wind  had  dried  the 
old  woman's  skin,  she  put  it  on  again,  threw  away  the 
lotus  flower,  and  hobbled  back  to  the  farmer's  door  be- 
fore the  sun  was  up. 

After  a  time  the  Rajah  discovered  that  some  one  had 
plucked  some  of  his  favorite  lotus  flowers.  People 
were  set  to  watch,  and  all  the  wise  men  in  the  king- 
dom put  their  heads  together  to  try  and  discover  the 
thief,  but  without  avail.  At  last  the  excitement  about 
this  matter  being  very  great,  the  Rajah's  second  son,  a 
brave  and  noble  young  Prince  (brother  to  him  who 


The  Raksha?  Palace.  245 

had  found  the  eldest  Princess  in  the  forest)  said,  "  I 
will  certainly  discover  this  thief."  It  chanced  that 
several  fine  trees  grew  around  the  tank.  Into  one  of 
these  the  young  Prince  climbed  one  evening  (having 
made  a  sort  of  light  thatched  roof  across  two  of  the 
boughs,  to  keep  off  the  heavy  dews),  and  there  he 
watched  all  the  night  through,  but  with  no  more  suc- 
cess than  his  predecessors.  There  lay  the  lotus  plants, 
still  in  the  moonlight,  without  so  much  as  a  thieving 
wind  coming  by  to  break  off  one  of  the  flowers.  The 
Prince  began  to  get  very  sleepy,  and  thought  the  de- 
linquent, whoever  he  might  be,  could  not  intend  to 
return,  when,  in  the  very  early  morning,  before  it  was 
light,  who  should  come  down  to  the  tank  but  an  old 
woman  he  had  often  seen  near  the  palace  gate. 
"Aha!"  thought  the  Prince,  "this  then  is  the  thief; 
but  what  can  this  queer  old  woman  want  with  lotus 
flowers?"  Imagine  his  astonishment  when  the  old 
woman  sat  down  on  the  steps  of  the  tank  and  began 
pulling  the  skin  off  her  face  and  arms,  and  from  un- 
derneath the  shriveled  yellow  skin  came  the  loveliest 
face  he  had  ever  beheld  !  So  fair,  so  fresh,  so  young, 
so  gloriously  beautiful,  that,  appearing  thus  suddenly, 
it  dazzled  the  Prince's  eyes  like  a  flash  of  golden 
lightning.  "  Ah,"  thought  he,  "  can  this  be  a  woman 
or  a  spirit?  a  devil  or  an  angel  in  disguise?" 

The  Princess  twisted  up  her  glossy  black  hair,  and, 
plucking  a  red  lotus,  placed  it  in  it,  and  dabbled  her 
feet  in  the  water,  and  amused  herself  by  putting  round 
her  neck  a  string  of  pearls  that  had  been  her  sister's 
necklace.  Then,  as  the  sun  was  rising,  she  threw  away 
the  lotus,  and  covering  her  face  and  arms  again  with 
the  withered  skin,  went  hastily  away.  When  the 


246  Old  Deccan  Days. 

Prince  got  home,  the  first  thing  he  said  to  his  parent* 
was,  "Father,  mother!  I  should  like  to  marry  that 
old  woman  who  stands  all  day  at  the  farmer's  gate,  just 
opposite."  "  What !"  cried  they,  "  the  boy  is  mad  !" 
Marry  that  skinny  old  thing !  You  cannot — you  are  a 
King's  son.  Are  there  not  enough  Queens  and  Prin- 
cesses in  the  world,  that  you  should  wish  to  marry  a 
wretched  old  beggar-woman?"  But  he  answered, 
"Above  all  things  I  should  like  to  marry  that  old 
woman.  You  know  that  I  have  ever  been  a  dutiful 
and  obedient  son.  In  this  matter,  I  pray  you,  grant 
me  my  desire."  Then,  seeing  he  was  really  in  earnest 
about  the  matter,  and  that  nothing  they  could  say  would 
alter  his  mind,  they  listened  to  his  urgent  entreaties — 
not,  however,  without  much  grief  and  vexation — and 
sent  out  the  guards,  who  fetched  the  old  woman  (who 
was  really  the  Princess  in  disguise)  to  the  palace, 
where  she  was  married  to  the  Prince  as  privately  and 
with  as  little  ceremony  as  possible,  for  the  family  were 
ashamed  of  the  match. 

As  soon  as  the  wedding  was  over,  the  Prince  said  to 
his  wife,  "  Gentle  wife,  tell  me  how  much  longer  you 
intend  to  wear  that  old  skin?  You  had  better  take  it 
off";  do  be  so  kind."  The  Princess  wondered  how  he 
knew  of  her  disguise,  or  whether  it  was  only  a  guess 
of  his  ;  and  she  thought,  "  If  I  take  this  ugly  skin  off, 
my  husband  will  think  me  pretty,  and  shut  me  up  in 
the  palace  and  never  let  me  go  away,  so  that  I  shall 
not  be  able  to  find  my  sister  again.  No,  I  had  better 
not  take  it  off."  So  she  answered,  "  I  don't  know  what 
you  mean.  I  am  as  all  these  years  have  made  me ; 
nobody  can  change  their  skin."  Then  the  Prince  pre- 
tended to  be  very  angry,  and  said,  "Take  off  that 


The  Rakshaf  Palace.  247 

hideous  disguise  this  instant,  or  I'll  kill  you."  But  she 
only  bowed  her  head,  saying,  "  Kill  me,  then,  but  no- 
body can  change  their  skin."  And  all  this  she  mum- 
bled as  if  she  were  a  very  old  woman  indeed,  and  had 
lost  all  her  teeth  and  could  not  speak  plain.  At  this 
the  Prince  laughed  very  much  to  himself,  and  thought, 
"  I'll  wait  and  see  how  long  this  freak  lasts."  But  the 
Princess  continued  to  keep  on  the  old  woman's  skin  ; 
only  every  morning,  at  about  three  o'clock,  before  it 
was  light,  she  would  get  up  and  wash  it  and  put  it  on 
again.  Then,  some  time  afterward,  the  Prince,  hav- 
ing found  this  out,  got  up  softly  one  morning  early,  and 
followed  her  to  the  next  room,  where  she  had  washed 
the  skin  and  placed  it  on  the  floor  to  dry,  and  stealing 
it,  he  ran  away  with  it  and  threw  it  on  the  fire.  So 
the  Princess,  having  no  old  woman's  skin  to  put  on, 
was  obliged  to  appear  in  her  own  likeness.  As  she 
walked  forth,  very  sad  at  missing  her  disguise,  her  hus- 
band ran  to  meet  her,  smiling  and  saying,  "  How  do 
you  do,  my  dear?  Where  is  your  skin  now?  Can't 
you  take  it  off,  dear?"  Soon  the  whole  palace  had 
heard  the  joyful  news  of  the  beautiful  young  wife  that 
the  Prince  had  won ;  and  all  the  people,  when  they 
saw  her,  cried,  "  Why  she  is  exactly  like  the  beautiful 
Princess  our  young  Rajah  married,  the  jungle  lady." 
The  old  Rajah  and  Ranee  were  prouder  than  all  of 
their  daughter-in-law,  and  took  her  to  introduce  her  to 
their  eldest  son's  wife.  Then  no  sooner  did  the  Prin- 
cess enter  her  sister-in-law's  room  then  she  saw  that  in 
her  she  had  found  her  lost  sister,  and  they  ran  into  each 
other's  arms.  Great  then  was  the  joy  of  all,  but  the 
happiest  of  all  these  happy  people  were  the  two  Prin. 


XVIII. 

THE  BLIND  MAN,  THE  DEAF  MAN  AND  THE 
DONKEY. 

A  BLIND  Man  and  a  Deaf  Man  once  entered  into 
partnership.     The  Deaf  Man  was  to  see  for  the 
Blind  Man,  and  the  Blind  Man  was  to  hear  for  the 
Deaf  Man. 

One  day  both  went  to  a  nautch*  together.  The  Deaf 
Man  said,  "  The  dancing  is  very  good,  but  the  music  is 
not  worth  listening  to  ;"  and  the  Blind  Man  said,  "  On 
the  contrary,  I  think  the  music  very  good,  but  the  dan- 
cing is  not  worth  looking  at." 

After  this  they  went  together  for  a  walk  in  the  jungle, 
and  there  they  found  a  Dhobee's  donkey  that  had 
strayed  away  from  its  owner,  and  a  great  big  chattee 
(such  as  Dhobees  boil  clothes  in),  which  the  donkey  was 
carrying  with  him. 

The  Deaf  Man  said  to  the  Blind  Man,  "  Brother, 
here  are  a  donkey  and  a  Dhobee's  great  big  chattee, 
with  nobody  to  own  them  !  Let  us  take  them  with  us — 
they  may  be  useful  to  us  some  day."  "  Very  well," 
said  the  Blind  Man,  "  we  will  take  them  with  us."  So 
the  Blind  Man  and  the  Deaf  Man  went  on  their  way, 
taking  the  donkey  and  the  great  big  chattee  with  them. 
A  little  farther  on  they  came  to  an  ant's  nest,  and  the 

*  Musical  and  dancing  entertainment. 
248 


The  Blind  Man,  Deaf  Man  and  Donkey.     249 

Deaf  Man  said  to  the  Blind  Man,  "  Here  are  a  number 
of  very  fine  black  ants,  much  larger  than  any  I  ever 
saw  before.  Let  us  take  some  of  them  home  to  sho\v 
o:ir  friends."  "  Very  well,"  answered  the  Blind  Man  ; 
"  we  will  take  them  as  a  present  to  our  friends."  So 
the  Deaf  Man  took  a  silver  snuff-box  out  of  his  pocket, 
and  put  four  or  five  of  the  finest  black  ants  into  it ; 
which  done,  they  continued  their  journey. 

But  before  they  had  gone  very  far  a  terrible  storm 
came  on.  It  thundered  and  lightened  and  rained  and 
blew  with  such  fury  that  it  seemed  as  if  the  whole 
heavens  and  earth  were  at  war.  "  Oh  dear !  oh  dear ! " 
cried  the  Deaf  Man,  "  how  dreadful  this  lightning  is ! 
Let  us  make  haste  and  get  to  some  place  of  shelter." 
"  I  don't  see  that  it's  dreadful  at  all,*'  answered  the 
Blind  Man,  "  but  the  thunder  is  very  terrible  ;  we  had 
better  certainly  seek  some  place  of  shelter." 

Now,  not  far  off  was  a  lofty  building,  which  looked 
exactly  like  a  fine  temple.  The  Deaf  Man  saw  it,  and 
he  and  the  Blind  Man  resolved  to  spend  the  night  there  ; 
and  having  reached  the  place,  they  went  in  and  shut  the 
door,  taking  the  donkey  and  the  great  big  chattee  with 
them.  But  this  building,  which  they  mistook  for  a 
temple,  was  in  truth  no  temple  at  all,  but  the  house  of 
a  very  powerful  Rakshas ;  and  hardly  had  the  Blind 
Man,  the  Deaf  Man  and  the  donkey  got  inside  and 
fastened  the  door  than  the  Rakshas,  who  had  been 
out,  returned  home.  To  his  surprise,  he  found  the 
door  fastened  and  heard  people  moving  about  inside 
his  house.  "  Ho  !  ho  !  "  cried  he  to  himself,  "  some 
men  have  got  in  here,  have  they!  I'll  soon  make 
mince-meat  of  them."  So  he  began  to  roar  in  a  voice 
louder  than  the  thunder,  and  he  cried,  "  Let  me  into 
L» 


250  Old  Deccan  Days. 

my  house  this  minute,  you  wretches  ;  let  me  in,  let  me 
in,  I  say,"  and  to  kick  the  door  and  batter  it  with  his 
great  fists.  But  though  his  voice  was  very  powerful, 
his  appearance  was  still  more  alarming,  insomuch  that 
the  Deaf  Man,  who  was  peeping  at  him  through  a 
chink  in  the  wall,  felt  so  frightened  that  he  did  not 
know  what  to  do.  But  the  Blind  Man  was  very  brave 
(because  he  couldn't  see),  and  went  up  to  the  door  and 
called  out,  "  Who  are  you  ?  and  what  do  you  mean  by 
coming  battering  at  the  door  in  this  way  and  at  this 
time  of  night?" 

"  I'm  a  Rakshas,"  answered  the  Rakshas,  angrily, 
"  and  this  is  my  house.  Let  me  in  this  instant,  or  I'll 
kill  you."  All  this  time  the  Deaf  Man,  who  was 
watching  the  Rakshas,  was  shivering  and  shaking  in 
a  terrible  fright,  but  the  Blind  Man  was  very  brave 
(because  he  couldn't  see),  and  he  called  out  again, 
"  Oh,  you're  a  Rakshas,  are  you !  Well,  if  you're 
Rakshas,  I'm  Bakshas ;  and  Bakshas  is  as  good  as 
Rakshas."  "  Bakshas ! "  roared  the  Rakshas.  "  Bak- 
shas !  Bakshas  !  What  nonsense  is  this  ?  There  is  no 
such  creature  as  a  Bakshas !  "  "  Go  away,"  replied 
the  Blind  Man,  "  and  don't  dare  to  make  any  further 
disturbance,  lest  I  punish  you  with  a  vengeance  ;  for 
know  that  I'm  Bakshas !  and  Bakshas  is  Rakshas' 
father."  "  My  father  ?"  answered  the  Rakshas.  "Hea- 
vens and  earth !  Bakshas  and  my  father !  I  never 
heard  such  an  extraordinary  thing  in  my  life.  You 
my  father ;  and  in  there !  I  never  knew  my  father  was 
called  Bakshas ! " 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  Blind  Man ;  "  go  away  instantly, 
I  command  you,  for  I  am  your  father  Bakshas."  "  Very 
well,"  answered  the  Rakshas  (for  he  began  to  get  puz- 


The  Blind  Man,  Deaf  Man  and  Donkey.     351 

zled  and  frightened),  "  but  if  you  are  my  father,  let  me 
first  see  your  face."  (For  he  thought,  "  Perhaps  they 
are  deceiving  me.")  The  Blind  Man  and  the  Deaf  Man 
didn't  know  what  to  do ;  but  at  last  they  opened  the 
door  a  very  tiny  chink  and  poked  the  donkey's  nose 
out.  When  the  Rakshas  saw  it  he  thought  to  himself, 
"  Bless  me,  what  a  terribly  ugly  face  my  father  Bakshas 
has !  "  He  then  called  out,  "  O  father  Bakshas,  you 
have  a  very  big,  fierce  face  ;  but  people  have  sometimes 
very  big  heads  and  very  little  bodies.  Pray  let  me  see 
your  body  as  well  as  head  before  I  go  away."  Then 
the  Blind  Man  and  the  Deaf  Man  rolled  the  great,  big 
Dhobee's  chattee  with  a  thundering  noise  past  the  chink 
in  the  door,  and  the  Rakshas,  who  was  watching  atten- 
tively, was  very  much  surprised  when  he  saw  this  great 
black  thing  rolling  along  the  floor,  and  he  thought,  "  In 
truth,  my  father  Bakshas  has  a  very  big  body  as  well 
as  a  big  head.  He's  big  enough  to  eat  me  up  altogether. 
I'd  better  go  away."  But  still  he  could  not  help  being 
a  little  doubtful,  so  he  cried,  "  O  Bakshas,  father  Bak- 
shas !  you  have  indeed  got  a  very  big  head  and  a  very 
big  body ;  but  do,  before  I  go  away,  let  me  hear  you 
scream  "  (for  all  Rakshas  scream  fearfully).  Then  the 
cunning  Deaf  Man  (who  was  getting  less  frightened) 
pulled  the  silver  snuff-box  out  of  his  pocket,  and  took 
the  black  ants  out  of  it,  and  put  one  black  ant  in  the 
donkey's  right  ear,  and  another  black  ant  in  the  donkey's 
left  ear,  and  another  and  another.  The  ants  pinched 
the  poor  donkey's  ears  dreadfully,  and  the  donkey  was 
so  hurt  and  frightened  he  began  to  bellow  as  loud  as  he 
could,  u  Eh  augh  !  eh  augh  !  eh  augh  !  augh  !  augh  !  '* 
and  at  this  terrible  noise  the  Rakshas  fled  away  in  a  great 
fright,  saying,  "Enough,  enough,  father  Bakshas )  the 


35»  Old  Deccan  Days. 

sound  of  vour  voice  would  make  the  most  refractory 
obedient."  And  no  sooner  had  he  gone  than  the  Deaf 
Man  took  the  ants  out  of  the  donkey's  ears,  and  he  and 
the  Blind  Man  spent  the  rest  of  the  night  in  peace  and 
comfort. 

Next  morning  the  Deaf  Man  woke  the  Blind  Man 
early,  saying,  "  Awake,  brother,  awake ;  here  we  are 
indeed  in  luck !  the  whole  floor  is  covered  with  heaps 
of  gold  and  silver  and  precious  stones."  And  so  it  was, 
for  the  Rakshas  owned  a  vast  amount  of  treasure,  and 
the  whole  house  was  full  of  it.  "  That  is  a  good  thing," 
said  the  Blind  Man.  "  Show  me  where  it  is  and  I  will 
help  you  to  collect  it."  So  they  collected  as  much  trea- 
sure as  possible  and  made  four  great  bundles  of  it.  The 
Blind  Man  took  one  great  bundle,  the  Deaf  Man  took 
another,  and,  putting  the  other  two  great  bundles  on 
the  donkey,  they  started  off  to  return  home.  But  the 
Rakshas,  whom  they  had  frightened  away  the  night 
before,  had  not  gone  very  far  off,  and  was  waiting  to 
see  what  his  father  Bakshas  might  look  like  by  daylight. 
He  saw  the  door  of  his  house  open  and  watched  atten- 
tively, when  out  walked — only  a  Blind  Man,  a  Deaf 
Man  and  a  donkey,  who  were  all  three  laden  with 
large  bundles  of  his  treasure.  The  Blind  Man  carried 
one  bundle,  the  Deaf  Man  carried  another  bundle,  and 
two  bundles  were  on  the  donkey. 

The  Rakshas  was  extremely  angry,  and  immediately 
called  six  of  his  friends  to  help  him  kill  the  Blind  Man, 
the  Deaf  Man  and  the  donkey,  and  recover  the  trea- 
sure. 

The  Deaf  Man  saw  them  coming  (seven  great  Rak- 
shas, with  hair  a  yard  long  and  tusks  like  an  elephant's), 
and  was  dreadfully  frightened  ;  but  the  Blind  Man  waf 


The  Blind  Man,  Deaf  Man  and  Donkey.     253 

very  brave  (because  he  couldn't  see),  and  said,  "Bro- 
ther, why  do  you  lag  behind  in  that  way?"  "Oh!" 
answered  the  Deaf  Man,  "  there  are  seven  great  Rak- 
shas with  tusks  like  an  elephant's  coming  to  kill  us ; 
what  can  we  do  ?"  "  Let  us  hide  the  treasure  in  the 
bushes,"  said  the  Blind  Man  ;  "  and  do  you  lead  me  to 
a  tree  ;  then  I  will  climb  up  first,  and  you  shall  climb 
up  afterward,  and  so  we  shall  be  out  of  their  way." 
The  Deaf  Man  thought  this  good  advice  ;  so  he  pushed 
the  donkey  and  the  bundles  of  treasure  into  the  bushes, 
and  led  the  Blind  Man  to  a  high  soparee  tree  that 
grew  close  by ;  but  he  was  a  very  cunning  man,  this 
Deaf  Man,  and  instead  of  letting  the  Blind  Man  climb 
up  first  and  following  him,  he  got  up  first  and  let  the 
Blind  Man  clamber  after,  so  that  he  was  farther  out  of 
harm's  way  than  his  friend. 

When  the  Rakshas  arrived  at  the  place  and  saw 
them  both  perched  out  of  reach  in  the  soparee  tree,  he 
said  to  his  friends,  "  Let  us  get  on  each  other's  shoul- 
ders ;  we  shall  then  be  high  enough  to  pull  them 
down."  So  one  Rakshas  stooped  down,  and  the  se- 
cond got  on  his  shoulders,  and  the  third  on  his,  and  the 
fourth  on  his,  and  the  fifth  on  his,  and  the  sixth  on 
his ;  and  the  seventh  and  the  last  Rakshas  (who  had 
invited  all  the  others)  was  just  climbing  up  when  the 
Deaf  Man  (who  was  looking  over  the  Blind  Man's 
shoulder)  got  so  frightened  that  in  his  alarm  he  caught 
hold  of  his  friend's  arm,  crying,  "  They're  coming, 
they're  coming !"  The  Blind  Man  was  not  in  a  very 
secure  position,  and  was  sitting  at  his  ease,  not  know- 
ing how  close  the  Rakshas  were.  The  consequence 
was,  that  when  the  Deaf  Man  gave  him  this  unexpected 
push,  he  lost  his  balance  and  tumbled  down  on  to  the 
22 


354  OM  Deccan  Days. 

neck  of  the  seventh  Rakshas,  who  was  just  then  climb- 
ing up.  The  Blind  Man  had  no  idea  where  he  was, 
but  thought  he  had  got  on  to  the  branch  of  some  other 
tree ;  and,  stretching  out  his  hand  for  something  to 
catch  hold  of,  caught  hold  of  the  Rakshas'  two  great 
ears,  and  pinched  them  very  hard  in  his  surprise  and 
fright.  The  Rakshas  couldn't  think  what  it  was  that 
had  come  tumbling  down  upon  him  ;  and  the  weight 
of  the  Blind  Man  upsetting  his  balance,  down  he  also 
fell  to  the  ground,  knocking  down  in  their  turn  the 
sixth,  fifth,  fourth,  third,  second  and  first  Rakshas,  who 
all  rolled  one  over  another,  and  lay  in  a  confused  heap 
at  the  foot  of  the  tree  together.  Meanwhile  the  Blind 
Man  called  out  to  his  friend,  "Where  am  I?  what  has 
happened?  Where  am  I?  where  am  I?"  The  Deaf 
Man  (who  was  safe  up  in  the  tree)  answered,  "  Well 
done,  brother !  never  fear !  never  fear !  You're  all 
right,  only  hold  on  tight.  I'm  coming  down  to  help 
you."  But  he  had  not  the  least  intention  of  leaving 
his  place  of  safety.  However,  he  continued  to  call 
out,  "  Never  mind,  brother ;  hold  on  as  tight  as  you 
can.  I'm  coming,  I'm  coming,"  and  the  more  he 
called  out,  the  harder  the  Blind  Man  pinched  the  Rak- 
shas' ears,  which  he  mistook  for  some  kind  of  palm 
branches.  The  six  other  Rakshas,  who  hid  succeeded, 
after  a  good  deal  of  kicking,  in  extricating  themselves 
from  their  unpleasant  position,  thought  they  had  had 
quite  enough  of  helping  their  friend,  and  ran  away  as 
fast  as  they  could  ;  and  the  seventh,  thinking  from  their 
going  that  the  danger  must  be  greater  than  he  ima- 
gined, and  being  moreover  very  much  afraid  of  the 
mysterious  creature  that  sat  on  his  shoulders,  put  his 
hands  to  the  back  of  his  ears  and  pushed  off  the  BHnJ 


The  Blind  Man,  Deaf  Man  and  Donkey.     255 

Ma*i,  and  then  (without  staying  to  see  who  or  what 
he  was)  followed  his  six  companions  as  fast  as  he 
could. 

As  soon  as  all  the  Rakshas  were  out  of  sight,  the 
Deaf  Man  came  down  from  the  tree,  and,  picking  up 
the  Blind  Man,  embraced  him,  saying,  "I  could  not 
have  done  better  myself.  You  have  frightened  away 
all  our  enemies,  but  you  see  I  came  to  help  you  as  fast 
as  possible."  He  then  dragged  the  donkey  and  the 
bundles  of  treasure  out  of  the  bushes,  gave  the  Blind 
Man  one  bundle  to  carry,  took  the  second  himself,  and 
put  the  remaining  two  on  the  donkey,  as  before.  This 
done,  the  whole  party  set  off  to  return  home.  But 
when  they  had  got  nearly  out  of  the  jungle  the  Deaf 
Man  said  to  the  Blind  Man,  "  We  are  now  close  to  the 
village,  but  if  we  take  all  this  treasure  home  with  us, 
we  shall  run  great  risk  of  being  robbed.  I  think  our 
best  plan  would  be  to  divide  it  equally  ;  then  you  shall 
take  care  of  your  half,  and  I  will  take  care  of  mine, 
and  each  one  can  hide  his  share  here  in  the  jungle,  or 
wherever  pleases  him  best."  "  Very  well,"  said  the 
Blind  Man ;  "  do  you  divide  what  we  have  in  the 
bundles  into  two  equal  portions,  keeping  one-half  your- 
self and  giving  me  the  other."  But  the  cunning  Deaf 
Man  had  no  intention  of  giving  up  half  of  the  treasure 
to  the  Blind  Man  ;  so  he  first  took  his  own  bundle  of 
treasure  and  hid  it  in  the  bushes,  and  then  he  took  the 
two  bundles  off  the  donkey  and  hid  them  in  the  bushes ; 
and  he  took  a  good  deal  of  treasure  out  of  the  Blind 
Man's  bundle,  which  he  also  hid.  Then,  taking  the 
small  quantity  that  remained,  he  divided  it  into  two 
equal  portions,  and  placing  half  before  the  Blind  Man 
and  half  in  front  of  himself,  said,  "  There,  brother,  is 


256  Old  Deccan  Days. 

your  share  to  do  what  you  please  with."  The  Blind 
Man  put  out  his  hand,  but  when  he  felt  what  a  very 
little  heap  of  treasure  it  was,  he  got  very  angry,  and 
cried,  "  This  is  not  fair — you  are  deceiving  me ;  you 
have  kept  almost  all  the  treasure  for  yourself  and  only 
given  me  a  very  little."  "  Oh,  oh  !  how  can  you  think 
so  ?"  answered  the  Deaf  Man ;  "  but  if  you  will  not 
believe  me,  feel  for  yourself.  See,  my  heap  of  treasure 
is  no  larger  than  yours."  The  Blind  Man  put  out  his 
hands  again  to  feel  how  much  his  friend  had  kept ;  but 
in  front  of  the  Deaf  Man  lay  only  a  very  small  heap, 
no  larger  than  what  he  had  himself  received.  At  this 
he  got  very  cross,  and  said,  "  Come,  come,  this  won't 
do.  You  think  you  can  cheat  me  in  this  way  because 
I  am  blind  ;  but  I'm  not  so  stupid  as  all  that.  I  carried 
a  great  bundle  of  treasure,  you  carried  a  great  bundle 
of  treasure,  and  there  were  two  great  bundles  on  the 
donkey.  Do  you  mean  to  pretend  that  all  that  made 
no  more  treasure  than  these  two  little  heaps !  No,  in- 
deed ;  I  know  better  than  that."  "Stuff  and  non- 
sense 1"  answered  the  Deaf  Man.  "  Stuff  or  no  stuff," 
continued  the  other,  "you  are  trying  to  take  me  in, 
and  I  won't  be  taken  in  by  you."  "  No,  I'm  not," 
said  the  Deaf  Man.  "  Yes,  you  are,"  said  the  Blind 
Man ;  and  so  they  went  on  bickering,  scolding,  growl- 
ing, contradicting,  until  the  Blind  Man  got  so  enraged 
that  he  gave  the  Deaf  Man  a  tremendous  box  on  the 
ear.  The  blow  was  so  violent  that  it  made  the  Deaf 
Man  hear  I  The  Deaf  Man,  very  angry,  gave  his 
neighbor  in  return  so  hard  a  blow  in  the  face  that  it 
opened  the  Blind  Man's  eyes ! 

So  the  Deaf  Man  could  hear  as  well  as  see  !  and  the 
Blind  Man  could  see  as  well  as  hear !    This  astonished 


The  Blind  Man,  Deaf  Man  and  Donkey.     257 

i  tern  both  so  much  that  they  became  good  friends  at 
once.  The  Deaf  Man  confessed  to  having  hidden  the 
bulk  of  the  treasure,  which  he  thereupon  dragged  fortA 
from  its  place  of  concealment  and,  having  divided  it 
equally,  they  went  home  and  enjoyed  themselves. 
22* 


XIX. 

MUCH  IE    LAL. 

ONCE  upon  a  time  there  was  a  Rajah  and  Ranee 
who  had  no  children.  Long  had  they  wished 
and  prayed  that  the  gods  would  send  them  a  son,  but 
it  was  all  in  vain — their  prayers  were  not  granted. 
One  day  a  number  of  fish  were  brought  into  the  royal 
kitchen  to  be  cooked  for  the  Rajah's  dinner,  and 
amongst  them  was  one  little  fish  that  was  not  dead,  but 
all  the  rest  were  dead.  One  of  the  palace  maid-servants 
seeing  this,  took  the  little  fish  and  put  him  in  a  basin 
of  water.  Shortly  afterward  the  Ranee  saw  him,  and 
thinking  him  very  pretty,  kept  him  as  a  pet ;  and  be- 
cause she  had  no  children  she  lavished  all  her  affection 
on  the  fish  and  loved  him  as  a  son ;  and  the  people 
called  him  Muchie  Rajah  (the  Fish  Prince).  In  a 
little  while  Muchie  Rajah  had  grown  too  long  to  live 
in  the  small  basin,  so  they  put  him  in  a  larger  one,  and 
then  (when  he  grew  too  long  for  that)  into  a  big  tub. 
In  time,  however,  Muchie  Rajah  became  too  large  for 
even  the  big  tub  to  hold  him  ;  so  the  Ranee  had  a  tank 
made  for  him  in  which  he  lived  very  happily,  and  twice 
a  day  she  fed  him  with  boiled  rice.  Now,  though  the 
people  fancied  Muchie  Rajah  was  only  a  fish,  this  was 
not  the  case.  He  was,  in  truth,  a  young  Rajah  who 
268 


Muchie  Lai.  359 

had  angered  the  gods,  and  been  by  them  turned  «'nto  a 
fish  and  thrown  into  the  river  as  a  punishment. 

One  morning,  when  the  Ranee  brought  him  his 
daily  meal  of  boiled  rice,  Muchie  Rajah  called  out  to 
her  and  said,  "  Queen  Mother,  Queen  Mother,  I  am  so 
lonely  here  all  by  myself!  Cannot  you  get  me  a  wife?" 
The  Ranee  promised  to  try,  and  sent  messengers  to  all 
the  people  she  knew,  to  ask  if  they  would  allow  one 
of  their  children  to  marry  her  son,  the  Fish  Prince. 
But  they  all  answered,  "  We  cannot  give  one  of  our 
dear  little  daughters  to  be  devoured  by  a  great  fish, 
even  though  he  is  the  Muchie  Rajah  and  so  high  in 
your  Majesty's  favor." 

At  news  of  this  the  Ranee  did  not  know  what  to  do. 
She  was  so  foolishly  fond  of  Muchie  Rajah,  however, 
that  she  resolved  to  get  him  a  wife  at  any  cost.  Again 
she  sent  out  messengers,  but  this  time  she  gave  them  a 
great  bag  containing  a  lac  of  gold  mohurs,*  and  said 
to  them,  "  Go  into  every  land  until  you  find  a  wife  for 
my  Muchie  Rajah,  and  to  whoever  will  give  you  a 
child  to  be  the  Muchie  Raneef  you  shall  give  this  bag 
of  gold  mohurs."  The  messengers  started  on  their 
search,  but  for  some  time  they  were  unsuccessful :  not 
even  the  beggars  were  to  be  tempted  to  sell  their  chil- 
dren, fearing  the  great  fish  would  devour  them.  At  last 
one  day  the  messengers  came  to  a  village  where  there 
lived  a  Fakeer,  who  had  lost  his  first  wife  and  married 
again.  His  first  wife  had  had  one  little  daughter,  and  his 
second  wife  also  had  a  daughter.  As  it  happened,  the 
Fakeer's  second  wife  hated  her  little  step-daughter, 
always  gave  her  the  hardest  work  to  do  and  the  least 

*  A  lac  of  gold  mohurs  is  equal  to  about  $750,000. 
f  Fish  Queen. 


a6o  Old  Deccan  Days. 

food  to  eat,  and  tried  by  every  means  in  her  power  to 
get  her  out  of  the  way,  in  order  that  the  child  might  not 
rival  her  own  daughter.  When  she  heard  of  the  errand 
on  which  the  messengers  had  come,  she  sent  for  them 
when  the  Fakeerwas  out,  and  said  to  them,  "Give  me 
the  bag  of  gold  mohurs,  and  you  shall  take  my  little 
daughter  to  marry  the  Muchie  Rajah."  ("For,"  she 
thought  to  herself,  "  the  great  fish  will  certainly  eat  the 
girl,  and  she  will  thus  trouble  us  no  more.")  Then, 
turning  to  her  step-daughter,  she  said,  "  Go  down  to 
the  river  and  wash  your  saree,  that  you  may  be  fit  to 
go  with  these  people,  who  will  take  you  to  the  Ranee's 
court."  At  these  words  the  poor  girl  went  down  to 
the  river  very  sorrowful,  for  she  saw  no  hope  of  escape, 
as  her  father  was  from  home.  As  she  knelt  by  the 
river-side,  washing  her  saree  and  crying  bitterly,  some 
of  her  tears  fell  into  the  hole  of  an  old  Seven-headed 
Cobra,  who  lived  on  the  river-bank.  This  Cobra  was 
a  very  wise  animal,  and  seeing  the  maiden,  he  put  his 
head  out  of  his  hole,  and  said  to  her,  "  Little  girl,  why 
do  you  cry?"  "Oh,  sir,"  she  answered,  "  I  am  very 
unhappy,  for  my  father  is  from  home,  and  my  step- 
mother has  sold  me  to  the  Ranee's  people  to  be  the 
wife  of  the  Muchie  Rajah,  that  great  fish,  and  I  know 
he  will  eat  me  up."  "  Do  not  be  afraid,  my  daughter," 
said  the  Cobra  ;  "but  take  with  you  these  three  stones 
and  tie  them  up  in  the  corner  of  your  saree  ;"  and  so 
saying,  he  gave  her  three  little  round  pebbles.  "  The 
Muchie  Rajah,  whose  wife  you  are  to  be,  is  not  really 
a  fish,  but  a  Rajah  who  has  been  enchanted.  Your 
home  will  be  a  little  room  which  the  Ranee  has  had 
built  in  the  tank  wall.  When  you  are  taken  there,  wait 
and  be  sure  you  don't  go  to  sleep,  or  the  Mucbie  Rajah 


Muchie  Lai.  261 

will  certainly  come  and  eat  you  up.  But  as  you  hear 
him  coming  rushing  through  the  water,  be  prepared,  and 
as  soon  as  you  see  him  throw  this  first  stone  at  him ; 
he  will  then  sink  to  the  bottom  of  the  tank.  The 
second  time  he  comes,  throw  the  second  stone,  when 
the  same  thing  will  happen.  The  third  time  he  comes, 
throw  this  third  stone,  and  he  will  immediately  resume 
his  human  shape."  So  saying,  the  old  Cobra  dived 
down  again  into  his  hole.  The  Fakeer's  daughter  took 
the  stones  and  determined  to  do  as  the  Cobra  had  told 
her,  though  she  hardly  believed  it  would  have  the 
desired  effect. 

When  she  reached  the  palace  the  Ranee  spoke  kindly 
to  her,  and  said  to  the  messengers,  "  You  have  done 
your  errand  well ;  this  is  a  dear  little  girl."  Then  she 
ordered  that  she  should  be  let  down  the  side  of  the  tank 
in  a  basket  to  a  little  room  which  had  been  prepared 
for  her.  When  the  Fakeer's  daughter  got  there,  she 
thought  she  had  never  seen  such  a  pretty  place  in  her 
life  (for  the  Ranee  had  caused  the  little  room  to  be  very 
nicely  decorated  for  the  wife  of  her  favorite)  ;  and  she 
would  have  felt  very  happy  away  from  her  cruel  step- 
mother and  all  the  hard  work  she  had  been  made  to  do, 
had  it  not  been  for  the  dark  water  that  lay  black  and 
unfathomable  below  the  door,  and  the  fear  of  the  terrible 
Muchie  Rajah. 

After  waiting  some  time  she  heard  a  rushing  sound, 
and  little  waves  came  dashing  against  the  threshold  ; 
faster  they  came  and  faster,  and  the  noise  got  louder 
and  louder,  until  she  saw  a  great  fish's  head  above  the 
water — Muchie  Rajah  was  coming  toward  her  open- 
mouthed.  The  Fakeer's  daughter  seized  one  of  the 
stones  that  the  Cobra  had  given  her  and  threw  it  at 


262  Old  Deccan  Days. 

him,  and  down  he  sank  to  the  bottom  of  the  tank ;  a 
second  time  he  rose  and  came  toward  her,  and  she 
threw  the  second  stone  at  him,  and  he  again  sank 
down  ;  a  third  time  he  came  more  fiercely  than  before, 
when,  seizing  a  third  stone,  she  threw  it  with  all  her 
force.  No  sooner  did  it  touch  him  than  the  spell  was 
broken,  and  there,  instead  of  a  fish,  stood  a  handsome 
young  Prince.  The  poor  little  Fakeer's  daughter  was 
so  startled  that  she  began  so  cry.  But  the  Prince  said 
to  her,  "  Pretty  maiden,  do  not  be  frightened.  You 
have  rescued  me  from  a  horrible  thraldom,  and  I  can 
never  thank  you  enough  ;  but  if  you  will  be  the  Muchie 
Ranee,  we  will  be  married  to  morrow."  Then  he  sat 
down  on  the  door-step,  thinking  over  his  strange  fate 
and  watching  for  the  dawn. 

Next  morning  early  several  inquisitive  people  came 
to  see  if  the  Muchie  Rajah  had  eaten  up  his  poor  little 
wife,  as  they  feared  he  would  ;  what  was  their  astonish- 
ment, on  looking  over  the  tank  wall,  to  see,  not  the 
Muchie  Rajah,  but  a  magnificent  Prince !  The  news 
soon  spread  to  the  palace.  Down  came  the  Rajah, 
down  came  the  Ranee,  down  came  all  their  attendants 
and  dragged  Muchie  Rajah  and  the  Fakeer's  daughter 
up  the  side  of  the  tank  in  a  basket ;  and  when  they 
heard  their  story  there  were  great  and  unparalleled 
rejoicings.  The  Ranee  said,  "  So  I  have  indeed  found 
a  son  at  last !  "  And  the  people  were  so  delighted,  so 
happy  and  so  proud  of  the  new  Prince  and  Princess 
that  they  covered  all  their  path  with  damask  from  the 
tank  to  the  palace,  and  cried  to  their  fellows,  "  Come 
and  see  our  new  Prince  and  Princess.  Were  ever  any 
so  divinely  beautiful  ?  Come  see  a  right  royal  couple — 
a  pair  of  mortals  like  the  gods!"  And  when  they 


Muchie  Lai.  263 

reached  the  palace  the  Prince  was  married  to  the 
Fakeer's  daughter. 

There  they  lived  very  happily  for  some  time.  The 
Muchie  Ranee's  step-mother,  hearing  what  had  hap- 
pened, came  often  to  see  her  step-daughter,  and  pretend- 
ed to  be  delighted  at  her  good  fortune  ;  and  the  Ranee 
was  so  good  that  she  quite  forgave  all  her  step-mother's 
former  cruelty,  and  always  received  her  very  kindly. 
At  last,  one  day,  the  Muchie  Ranee  said  to  her  husband, 
"It  is  a  weary  while  since  I  saw  my  father.  If  you 
will  give  me  leave,  I  should  much  like  to  visit  my  native 
village  and  see  him  again."  "  Very  well,"  he  replied, 
"  you  may  go.  But  do  not  stay  away  long ;  for  there 
can  be  no  happiness  for  me  till  you  return."  So  she 
went,  and  her  father  was  delighted  to  see  her ;  but  her 
step-mother,  though  she  pretended  to  be  very  kind,  was, 
in  reality,  only  glad  to  think  she  had  got  the  Ranee  into 
her  power,  and  determined,  if  possible,  never  to  allow 
her  to  return  to  the  palace  again.  One  day,  therefore, 
she  said  to  her  own  daughter,  "  It  is  hard  that  your 
step-sister  should  have  become  Ranee  of  all  the  land 
instead  of  being  eaten  up  by  the  great  fish,  while  we 
gained  no  more  than  a  lac  of  gold  mohurs.  Do  now 
as  I  bid  you,  that  you  may  become  Ranee  in  her  stead." 
She  then  went  on  to  instruct  her  how  that  she  must 
invite  the  Ranee  down  to  the  river-bank,  and  there  beg 
her  to  let  her  try  on  her  jewels,  and  whilst  putting  them 
on  give  her  a  push  and  drown  her  in  the  river. 

The  girl  consented,  and  standing  by  the  river-bank, 
said  to  her  step-sister, "  Sister,  may  I  try  on  your  jewels  ? 
— how  pretty  they  are  ! "  "  Yes,"  said  the  Ranee, "  and 
we  shall  be  able  to  see  in  the  river  how  they  look."  So, 
undoing  her  necklaces,  she  clasped  them  round  the 


264  Old  Deccan  Days. 

other's  neck.  But  whilst  she  was  doing  so  her  step- 
sister gave  her  a  push,  and  she  fell  backward  into  the 
water.  The  girl  watched  to  see  that  the  body  did  not 
rise,  and  then,  running  back,  said  to  her  mother, 
"  Mother,  here  are  all  the  jewels,  and  she  will  trouble  us 
no  more."  But  it  happened  that  just  when  her  step- 
sister pushed  the  Ranee  into  the  river  her  old  friend  the 
Seven-headed  Cobra  chanced  to  be  swimming  across  it, 
and  seeing  the  little  Ranee  like  to  be  drowned,  he  car- 
ried her  on  his  back  until  he  reached  his  hole,  into 
which  he  took  her  safely.  Now  this  hole,  in  which  the 
Cobra  and  his  wife  and  all  his  little  ones  lived,  had  two 
entrances — the  one  under  the  water  and  leading  to  the 
river,  and  the  other  above  water,  leading  out  into  the 
open  fields.  To  this  upper  end  of  his  hole  the  Cobra 
took  the  Muchie  Ranee,  where  he  and  his  wife  took 
care  of  her ;  and  there  she  lived  with  them  for  some  time. 
Meanwhile,  the  wicked  Fakeer's  wife,  having  dressed 
up  her  own  daughter  in  all  the  Ranee's  jewels,  took 
her  to  the  palace,  and  said  to  the  Muchie  Rajah,  "  See, 
I  have  brought  your  wife,  my  dear  daughter,  back  safe 
and  well."  The  Rajah  looked  at  her,  and  thought, 
"  This  does  not  look  like  my  wife."  However,  the 
room  was  dark  and  the  girl  was  cleverly  disguised, 
and  he  thought  he  might  be  mistaken.  Next  day  he 
said  again,  "  My  wife  must  be  sadly  changed  or  this 
cannot  be  she,  for  she  was  always  bright  and  cheerful. 
She  had  pretty  loving  ways  and  merry  words,  while 
this  woman  never  opens  her  lips."  Still,  he  did  not 
like  to  seem  to  mistrust  his  wife,  and  comforted  himself 
by  saying,  "  Perhaps  she  is  tired  with  the  long  journey." 
On  the  third  day,  however,  he  could  bear  the  uncer- 
tainty no  longer,  and  tearing  off  her  jewels,  saw,  not  the 


Muchie  Lai.  *$ 

face  of  his  own  little  wife,  but  another  woman.  Then 
he  was  very  angry  and  turned  her  out  of  doors,  saying, 
"  Begone  ;  since  you  are  but  the  wretched  tool  of  others, 
I  spare  your  life."  But  of  the  Fakeer's  wife  he  said  to 
his  guards,  "  Fetch  that  woman  here  instantly ;  for 
unless  she  can  tell  me  where  my  wife  is,  I  will  have 
her  hanged."  It  chanced,  however,  that  the  Fakeer's 
wife  had  heard  of  the  Muchie  Rajah  having  turned  her 
daughter  out  of  doors ;  so,  fearing  his  anger,  she  hid 
herself,  and  was  not  to  be  found. 

Meantime,  the  Muchie  Ranee,  not  knowing  how  to 
get  home,  continued  to  live  in  the  great  Seven-headed 
Cobra's  hole,  and  he  and  his  wife  and  all  his  family 
were  very  kind  to  her,  and  loved  her  as  if  she  had  been 
one  of  them ;  and  there  her  little  son  was  born,  and 
she  called  him  Muchie  Lai,*  after  the  Muchie  Rajah, 
his  father.  Muchie  Lai  was  a  lovely  child,  merry  and 
brave,  and  his  playmates  all  day  long  were  the  young 
Cobras.f  When  he  was  about  three  years  old  a  ban- 
gle-seller came  by  that  way,  and  the  Muchie  Ranee 
bought  some  bangles  from  him  and  put  them  on  her 
boy's  wrists  and  ankles ;  but  by  next  day,  in  playing, 
he  had  broken  them  all.  Then,  seeing  the  bangle- 
seller,  the  Ranee  called  him  again  and  bought  some 
more,  and  so  on  every  day  until  the  bangle-seller  got 
quite  rich  from  selling  so  many  bangles  for  the  Muchie 
Lai,  for  the  Cobra's  hole  was  full  of  treasure,  and  he 
gave  the  Muchie  Ranee  as  much  money  to  spend  every 
day  as  she  liked.  There  was  nothing  she  wished  for 
he  did  not  give  her,  only  he  would  not  let  her  try  to 
get  home  to  her  husband,  which  she  wished  more  than 
all.  When  she  asked  him  he  would  say,  "  No,  I  will 
*  Little  Ruby  Fish.  t  See  Notes  at  the  end. 

23  If 


266  Old  Deccan  Days. 

not  let  you  go.  If  your  husband  comes  here  and 
fetches  you,  it  is  well ;  but  I  will  not  allow  you  to 
wander  in  search  of  him  through  the  land  alone." 

And  so  she  was  obliged  to  stay  where  she  was. 

All  this  time  the  poor  Muchie  Rajah  was  hunting  in 
every  part  of  the  country  for  his  wife,  but  he  could 
learn  no  tidings  of  her.  For  grief  and  sorrow  at  losing 
her  he  had  gone  well-nigh  distracted,  and  did  nothing 
but  wander  from  place  to  place,  crying,  "  She  is  gone ! 
she  is  gone  !"  Then,  when  he  had  long  inquired  with- 
out avail  of  all  the  people  in  her  native  village  about 
her,  he  one  day  met  a  bangle-seller  and  said  to  him, 
"  Whence  do  you  come  ?"  The  bangle-seller  answered, 
"  I  have  just  been  selling  bangles  to  some  people  who 
live  in  a  Cobra's  hole  in  the  river-bank."  "  People  ! 
What  people?"  asked  the  Rajah.  "  Why,"  answered 
the  bangle-seller,  "  a  woman  and  a  child :  the  child  is 
the  most  beautiful  I  ever  saw.  He  is  about  three  years 
old,  and  of  course,  running  about,  is  always  breaking 
his  bangles,  and  his  mother  buys  him  new  ones  every 
day."  "  Do  you  know  what  the  child's  name  is?"  said 
the  Rajah.  "  Yes,"  answered  the  bangle-seller,  care- 
lessly, "  for  the  lady  always  calls  him  her  Muchie  Lai." 
"  Ah,"  thought  the  Muchie  Rajah,  "  this  must  be  my 
wife."  Then  he  said  to  him  again,  "  Good  bangle- 
seller,  I  would  see  these  strange  people  of  whom  you 
speak  ;  cannot  you  take  me  there  ?"  "  Not  to-night," 
replied  the  bangle-seller ;  "  daylight  has  gone,  and  we 
should  only  frighten  them  ;  but  I  shall  be  going  there 
again  to-morrow,  and  then  you  may  come  too.  Mean- 
while, come  and  rest  at  my  house  for  the  night,  for  you 
look  faint  and  weary."  The  Rajah  consented.  Next 
morning,  however,  very  early,  he  woke  the  bangle- 


Muchie  LaL  267 

seller,  saying,  "  Pray  let  us  go  now  and  see  the  people 
you  spoke  about  yesterday."  "  Stay,"  said  the  bangle- 
seller  ;  "  it  is  much  too  early.  I  never  go  till  after 
breakfast."  So  the  Rajah  had  to  wait  till  the  bangle- 
seller  was  ready  to  go.  At  last  they  started  off,  and 
when  they  reached  the  Cobra's  hole  the  first  thing  the 
Rajah  saw  was  a  fine  little  boy  playing  with  the  young 
Cobras. 

As  the  bangle-seller  came  along,  jingling  his  bangles, 
a  gentle  voice  from  inside  the  hole  called  out,  "  Come 
here,  my  Muchie  Lai,  and  try  on  your  bangles."  Then 
the  Muchie  Rajah,  kneeling  down  at  the  mouth  of  the 
hole,  said,  "  Oh,  lady,  show  your  beautiful  face  to  me." 
At  the  sound  of  his  voice  the  Ranee  ran  out,  crying, 
"  Husband,  husband !  have  you  found  me  again." 
And  she  told  him  how  her  sister  had  tried  to  drown 
her,  and  how  the  good  Cobra  had  saved  her  life  and 
taken  care  of  her  and  her  child.  Then  he  said,  "And 
will  you  now  come  home  with  me?"  And  she  told 
him  how  the  Cobra  would  never  let  her  go,  and  said, 
"  I  will  first  tell  him  of  your  coming  ;  for  he  has  been 
as  a  father  to  me."  So  she  called  out,  "  Father  Cobra, 
father  Cobra,  my  husband  has  come  to  fetch  me  ;  will 
you  let  me  go?"  "Yes,"  he  said,  "  if  your  husband 
has  come  to  fetch  you,  you  may  go."  And  his  wife 
said,  "  Farewell,  dear  lady,  we  are  loth  to  lose  you, 
for  we  have  loved  you  as  a  daughter."  And  all  the 
little  Cobras  were  very  sorrowful  to  think  that  they 
must  lose  their  playfellow,  the  young  Prince.  Then 
the  Cobra  gave  the  Muchie  Rajah  and  the  Muchie 
Ranee  and  Muchie  Lai  all  the  most  costly  gifts  he 
could  find  in  his  treasure-house ;  and  so  they  went 
home,  where  they  lived  very  happy  ever  after. 


XX. 

CHUNDUN  RAJAH. 

ONCE  upon  a  time,  a  Rajah  and  Ranee  died; 
leaving  seven  sons  and  one  daughter.  All  these 
seven  sons  were  married,  and  the  wives  of  the  six  eldest 
used  to  be  very  unkind  to  their  poor  little  sister-in-law  ; 
but  the  wife  of  the  seventh  brother  loved  her  dearly, 
and  always  took  her  part  against  the  others.  She  would 
say,  "  Poor  little  thing !  her  life  is  sad.  Her  mother 
wished  so  long  for  a  daughter,  and  then  the  girl  was 
born  and  the  mother  died,  and  never  saw  her  poor 
child,  or  was  able  to  ask  any  one  to  take  care  of  her." 
At  which  the  wives  of  the  six  elder  brothers  would  an- 
swer, "  You  only  take  such  notice  of  the  girl  in  order 
to  vex  us."  Then,  while  their  husbands  were  away, 
they  made  up  wicked  stories  against  their  sister-in-law, 
which  they  told  them  on  their  return  home  ;  and  their 
husbands  believed  them  rather  than  her,  and  were  very 
angry  with  her  and  ordered  her  to  be  turned  out  of  the 
house.  But  the  wife  of  the  seventh  brother  did  not 
believe  what  the  six  others  said,  and  was  very  kind  to 
the  little  Princess,  and  sent  her  secretly  as  much  food 
as  she  could  spare  from  her  own  dinner.  But  as  they 
drove  her  from  their  door,  the  six  wives  of  the  elder 
brothers  cried  out,  "  Go  away,  wicked  girl,  go  away, 


Chundun  Rajah.  269 

and  never  let  us  see  your  face  again  until  you  marry 
Chundun  Rajah  !*  When  you  invite  us  to  the  wedding, 
and  give  us,  the  six  eldest,  six  common  wooden  stools 
to  sit  on,  but  the  seventh  sister  (who  always  takes  your 
part)  a  fine  emerald  chair,  we  will  believe  you  innocent 
of  all  the  evil  deeds  of  which  you  are  accused,  but  not  till 
then !"  This  they  said  scornfully,  railing  at  her ;  for 
Chundun  Rajah,  of  whom  they  spoke  (who  was  the 
great  Rajah  of  a  neighboring  country),  had  been  dead 
many  months. 

So,  sad  at  heart,  the  Princess  wandered  forth  into  Jie 
jungle ;  and  when  she  had  gone  through  it,  she  came 
upon  another,  still  denser  than  the  first.  The  trees 
grew  so  thickly  overhead  that  she  could  scarcely  see 
the  sky,  and  there  was  no  village  or  house  of  living 
creature  near.  The  food  her  youngest  sister-in-law  had 
given  her  was  nearly  exhausted,  and  she  did  not  know 
where  to  get  more.  At  last,  however,  after  journeying 
on  for  many  days,  she  came  upon  a  large  tank,  beside 
which  was  a  fine  house  that  belonged  to  a  Rakshas 
Being  very  tired,  she  sat  down  on  the  edge  of  the  tank 
to  eat  some  of  the  parched  rice  that  remained  of  her 
store  of  provisions ;  and  as  she  did  so  she  thought, 
"  This  house  belongs  doubtless  to  a  Rakshas,  who  per- 
haps will  see  me  and  kill  and  eat  me ;  but  since  no  one 
cares  for  me,  and  I  have  neither  home  nor  friends,  I 
hold  life  cheap  enough."  It  happened,  however,  that 
the  Rakshas  was  then  out,  and  there  was  no  one  in  his 
house  but  a  little  cat  and  dog,  who  were  his  servants. 

The  dog's  duty  was  to  take  care  of  the  saffron  with 
which  the  Rakshas  colored  his  face  on  highdays  and 
holidays,  and  the  cat  had  charge  of  the  antimony  with 
*  King  Sandlewood. 


*70  Old  Deccan  Days. 

which  he  blackened  his  eyelids.  Before  the  Princess 
had  been  long  by  the  tank,  the  little  cat  spied  her  out, 
and  running  to  her,  said,  "  Oh,  sister,  sister,  I  am  so 
hungry,  pray  give  me  some  of  your  dinner."  The 
Princess  answered,  "  I  have  very  little  rice  left ;  when 
it  is  all  gone  I  shall  starve.  If  I  give  you  some,  what 
have  you  to  give  me  in  exchange  ?"  The  cat  said,  "  I 
have  charge  of  the  antimony  with  which  my  Rakshas 
blackens  his  eyelids — I  will  give  you  some  of  it ;"  and 
running  to  the  house  she  fetched  a  nice  little  potful  of 
antimony,  which  she  gave  to  the  Princess  in  exchange 
for  the  rice.  When  the  little  dog  saw  this,  he  also  ran 
down  to  the  tank,  and  said,  "  Lady,  lady,  give  me  some 
rice,  I  pray  you,  for  I,  too,  am  very  hungry."  But  she 
answered,  "  I  have  very  little  rice  left,  and  when  it  is 
all  gone  I  shall  starve.  If  I  give  you  some  of  my  din- 
ner, what  will  you  give  me  in  exchange?"  The  dog 
said,  "  I  have  charge  of  my  Rakshas'  saffron,  with 
which  he  colors  his  face.  I  will  give  you  some  of  it." 
So  he  ran  to  the  house  and  fetched  a  quantity  of  saffron 
and  gave  it  to  the  Princess,  and  she  gave  him  also  some 
of  the  rice.  Then,  tying  the  antimony  and  saffron  up 
in  her  saree,  she  said  good-bye  to  the  dog  and  cat  and 
went  on  her  way. 

Three  or  four  days  after  this,  she  found  she  had 
nearly  reached  the  other  side  of  the  jungle.  The  wood 
was  not  so  thick,  and  in  the  distance  she  saw  a  large 
building  that  looked  like  a  great  tomb.  The  Princess 
determined  to  go  and  see  what  it  was,  and  whether  she 
could  find  any  one  there  to  give  her  any  food,  for  she 
had  eaten  all  the  rice  and  felt  very  hungry,  and  it  was 
getting  toward  night. 

Now  the  place  toward  which  the  Princess  went  wa-s 


Chundun  Rajah.  271 

the  tomb  of  the  Chundun  Rajah,  but  this  she  did  not 
know. 

Chundun  Rajah  had  died  many  months  before,  and 
his  father  and  mother  and  sisters,  who  loved  him  veiy 
dearly,  could  not  bear  the  idea  of  his  being  buried 
under  the  cold  ground ;  so  they  had  built  a  beautiful 
tomb,  and  inside  it  they  had  placed  the  body  on  a  bed 
under  a  canopy,  and  it  had  never  decayed,  but  con- 
tinued as  fair  and  perfect  as  when  first  put  there. 
Every  day  Chundun  Rajah's  mother  and  sister  would 
come  to  the  place  to  weep  and  lament  from  sunrise  to 
sunset,  but  each  evening  they  returned  to  their  own 
homes.  Hard  by  was  a  shrine  and  small  hut  where  a 
Brahmin  lived,  who  had  charge  of  the  place  ;  and  from 
far  and  near  people  used  to  come  to  visit  the  tomb  of 
their  lost  Rajah  and  see  the  great  miracle,  how  the 
body  of  him  who  had  been  dead  so  many  months 
remained  perfect  and  undecayed  ;  but  none  knew  why 
this  was.  When  the  Princess  got  near  the  place  a 
violent  storm  came  on.  The  rain  beat  upon  her  and 
wetted  her,  and  it  grew  so  dark  she  could  hardly  see 
where  she  was  going.  She  would  have  been  afraid  to 
go  into  the  tomb  had  she  known  about  Chundun 
Rajah ;  but  as  it  was,  the  storm  being  so  violent  and 
night  approaching,  she  ran  in  there  for  shelter  as  fast 
as  she  could,  and  sat  down  shivering  in  one  corner.  By 
the  light  of  an  oil  lamp  that  burnt  dimly  in  a  niche  in 
the  wall,  she  saw  in  front  of  her  the  body  of  the  Rajah 
lying  under  the  canopy,  with  the  heavy  jeweled  cover- 
lid over  him  and  the  rich  hangings  all  round.  He 
looked  as  if  he  were  only  asleep,  and  she  did  not  feel 
frightened.  But  at  twelve  o'clock,  to  her  great  sur* 
prise,  as  she  was  watching  and  waiting,  the  Rajah 


*7»  Old  Deccan  Days. 

came  to  life ;  and  when  he  saw  her  sitting  shivering  in 
the  corner,  he  fetched  a  light  and  came  toward  her  and 
said,  "  Who  are  you  ?"  She  answered,  "  I  am  a  poof 
lonely  girl.  I  only  came  here  for  shelter  from  the  storm. 
I  am  dying  of  cold  and  hunger.*'  And  then  she  told 
him  all  her  story — how  that  her  sisters-in-law  had 
falsely  accused  her,  and  driven  her  from  among  them 
into  the  jungle,  bidding  her  see  their  faces  no  more 
until  she  married  the  Chundun  Rajah,  who  had  been 
dead  so  many  months ;  and  how  the  youngest  had  been 
kind  to  her  and  sent  her  food,  which  had  prevented 
her  from  starving  by  the  way. 

The  Rajah  listened  to  the  Princess*  words,  and  was 
certain  that  they  were  true  and  she  no  common  beggar 
from  the  jungles.  For,  for  all  her  ragged  clothes,  she 
looked  a  royal  lady,  and  shone  like  a  star  in  the  dark- 
ness. Moreover,  her  eyelids  were  darkened  with  anti- 
mony and  her  beautiful  face  painted  with  saffron,  like 
the  face  of  a  Princess.  Then  he  felt  a  great  pity  for 
her,  and  said,  "  Lady,  have  no  fear,  for  I  will  take 
care  of  you,"  and  dragging  the  rich  coverlid  off  his  bed 
he  threw  it  over  her  to  keep  her  warm,  and  going  to 
the  Brahmin's  house,  which  was  close  by,  fetched  some 
rice,  which  he  gave  her  to  eat.  Then  he  said,  "  I  am 
the  Chundun  Rajah,  of  whom  you  have  heard.  I  die 
every  day,  but  every  night  I  come  to  life  for  a  little 
while."  She  cried,  "  Do  none  of  your  family  know  of 
this?  and  if  so,  why  do  you  stay  here  in  a  dismal 
tomb  ?"  He  answered,  "  None  know  it  but  the  Brah- 
min who  has  charge  of  this  place.  Since  my  life  is 
thus  maimed,  what  would  it  avail  to  tell  my  family  ? 
It  would  but  grieve  them  more  than  to  think  me  dead. 
Therefore,  I  have  forbidden  him  to  let  diem  know  ; 


Chundun  Rajah.  373 

and  since  my  parents  only  come  here  by  day,  they  have 
never  found  it  out.  Maybe  I  shall  some  time  wholly 
recover,  and  till  then  I  will  be  silent  about  my  exist- 
ence." Then  he  called  the  Brahmin  who  had  charge 
of  the  tomb  and  the  shrine  (and  who  daily  placed  an 
offering  of  food  upon  it  for  the  Rajah  to  eat  when  he 
came  to  life),  and  said  to  him,  "Henceforth,  place  a 
double  quantity  of  food  upon  the  shrine,  and  take  care 
of  this  lady.  If  I  ever  recover  she  shall  be  my  Ranee." 
And  having  said  these  words  he  died  again.  Then  the 
Brahmin  took  the  Princess  to  his  little  hut,  and  bade 
his  wife  see  that  she  wanted  for  nothing,  and  all  the 
next  day  she  rested  in  that  place.  Very  early  in  the 
morning  Chundun  Rajah's  mother  and  sisters  came  to 
visit  the  tomb,  but  they  did  not  see  the  Princess ;  and 
in  the  evening,  when  the  sun  was  setting,  they  went 
away.  That  night,  when  the  Chundun  Rajah  came  to 
life,  he  called  the  Brahmin,  and  said  to  him,  "  Is  the 
Princess  still  here?"  "Yes,"  he  answered;  "for  she 
is  weary  with  her  journey,  and  she  has  no  home  to  go 
to."  The  Rajah  said,  "  Since  she  has  neither  home 
nor  friends,  if  she  be  willing,  you  shall  marry  me  to 
her,  and  she  shall  wander  no  further  in  search  of 
shelter."  So  the  Brahmin  fetched  his  shastra*  and 
called  all  his  family  as  witnesses,  and  married  the 
Rajah  to  the  little  Princess,  reading  prayers  over  them 
and  scattering  rice  and  flowers  upon  their  heads.  And 
there  the  Chundun  Ranee  lived  for  some  time.  She 
was  very  happy ;  she  wanted  nothing,  and  the  Brah- 
min and  his  wife  took  as  much  care  of  her  as  if  she  had 
been  their  daughter.  Every  day  she  would  wait  out- 
side the  tomb,  but  at  sunset  she  always  returned  to  it 
*  Sacred  books. 
At* 


374  °M  Deccan  Days. 

and  watched  for  her  husband  to  come  to  life.  One 
night  she  said  to  him,  "  Husband,  I  am  happier  to  be 
your  wife,  and  hold  your  hand  and  talk  to  you  for  two 
or  three  hours  every  evening,  than  were  I  married  to 
some  great  living  Rajah  for  a  hundred  years.  But  oil 
what  joy  it  would  be  if  you  could  come  wholly  to  life 
again  !  Do  you  know  what  is  the  cause  of  your  daily 
death  ?  and  what  it  is  that  brings  you  to  life  each  night 
at  twelve  o'clock  ?" 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  "  it  is  because  I  have  lost  my  Chun- 
dun  Har,*  the  sacred  necklace  that  held  my  soul.  A 
Peri  stole  it.  I  was  in  the  palace  garden  one  day, 
when  many  of  those  winged  ladies  flew  over  my  head, 
and  one  of  them,  when  she  saw  me,  loved  me  and 
asked  me  to  marry  her.  But  I  said  no,  I  would  not ; 
and  at  that  she  was  angry,  and  tore  the  Chundun  Har 
off  my  neck  and  flew  away  with  it.  That  instant  I  fell 
down  dead,  and  my  father  and  mother  caused  me  to 
be  placed  in  this  tomb  ;  but  every  night  the  Peri  comes 
here  and  takes  my  necklace  off  her  neck,  and  when  she 
takes  it  off  I  come  to  life  again,  and  she  asks  me  to 
come  away  with  her  and  marry  her,  and  she  does  not 
put  on  the  necklace  again  for  two  or  three  hours,  wait- 
ing to  see  if  I  will  consent.  During  that  time  I  live. 
But  when  she  finds  I  will  not,  she  puts  on  the  necklace 
again  and  flies  away,  and  as  soon  as  she  puts  it  on,  I 

die."f 

"Cannot  the  Peri  be  caught?"  asked  the  Chun- 
dun  Ranee.  Her  husband  answered,  "No,  I  have 
often  tried  to  seize  back  my  necklace,  for  if  I  could  re- 
gain it  I  should  come  wholly  to  life  again ;  but  the 
Peri  can  at  will  render  herself  invisible  and  fly  away 
*  Sandlewood  necklace.  f  See  Note»  at  the  end. 


Chundun  Rajah.  375 

with  it,  so  that  it  is  impossible  for  any  mortal  man  to 
get  it."  At  this  news  the  Chundun  Ranee  was  sad  at 
heart,  for  she  saw  no  hope  of  the  Rajah's  being  restored 
to  life  ;  and  grieving  over  this  she  became  so  ill  and 
unhappy  that  even  when  she  had  a  little  baby  boy 
born,  it  did  not  much  cheer  her,  for  she  did  nothing 
but  think,  "  This  poor  child  will  grow  up  in  this  deso- 
late place,  and  have  no  kind  father  day  by  day  to  teach 
him  and  help  him  as  other  children  have,  but  only  see 
him  for  a  little  while  by  night ;  and  we  are  all  at  the 
mercy  of  the  Peri,  who  may  any  day  fly  quite  away 
with  the  necklace  and  not  return."  The  Brahmin, 
seeing  how  ill  she  was,  said  to  the  Chundun  Rajah, 
"  The  Ranee  will  die  unless  she  can  be  somewhere 
where  much  care  will  be  taken  of  her,  for  in  my  poor 
home  my  wife  and  I  can  do  but  little  for  her  comfort. 
Your  mother  and  sister  are  good  and  charitable ;  let 
her  go  to  the  palace,  where  they  will  only  need  to  see 
she  is  ill  to  take  care  of  her."  Now  it  happened  that 
in  the  palace  courtyard  there  was  a  great  slab  of  white 
marble,  on  which  the  Chundun  Rajah  would  often 
rest  on  the  hot  summer  days ;  and  because  he  used  to 
be  so  fond  of  it,  when  he  died  his  father  and  mother 
ordered  that  it  should  be  taken  great  care  of,  and  no 
one  was  allowed  to  so  much  as  touch  it.  Knowing 
this,  Chundun  Rajah  said  to  his  wife,  "  You  are  ill ;  I 
should  like  you  to  go  to  the  palace,  where  my  mother 
and  sisters  will  take  the  greatest  care  of  you.  Do  this, 
therefore  :  take  our  child  and  sit  down  with  him  upon 
the  great  slab  of  marble  in  the  palace  courtyard.  I 
~sed  to  be  very  fond  of  it ;  and  so  now  for  my  sake  it 
is  kept  with  the  greatest  care,  and  no  one  is  allowed 
to  so  much  is  touch  it.  They  will  most  likely  see  you 


276  Old  Deccan  Days. 

there  and  order  you  to  go  away ;  but  if  you  then  tell 
them  you  are  ill,  they  will,  I  know,  have  pity  on  you 
and  befriend  you."  The  Chundun  Ranee  did  as  her 
husband  told  her,  placing  her  little  boy  on  the  great 
slab  of  white  marble  in  the  palace  courtyard  and  sitting 
down  herself  beside  him.  Chundun  Rajah's  sister, 
who  was  looking  out  of  the  window,  saw  her  and  cried, 
"  Mother,  there  are  a  woman  and  her  child  resting  on 
my  brother's  marble  slab  ;  let  us  tell  them  to  go  away." 
So  she  ran  down  to  the  place,  but  when  she  saw  Chun- 
dun  Ranee  and  the  little  boy  she  was  quite  astonished, 
the  Chundun  Ranee  was  so  fair  and  lovable-looking, 
and  the  baby  was  the  image  of  her  dead  brother.  Then 
returning  to  her  mother,  she  said,  "  Mother,  she  who 
sits  upon  the  marble  stone  is  the  prettiest  little  lady  I 
ever  saw  ;  and  do  not  let  us  blame  the  poor  thing ;  she 
says  she  is  ill  and  weary,  and  the  baby  (I  know  not  if 
it  is  fancy,  or  the  seeing  him  on  that  stone)  seems  to 
me  the  image  of  my  lost  brother." 

At  this  the  old  Ranee  and  the  rest  of  the  family  went 
out,  and  when  they  saw  the  Chundun  Ranee,  they  all 
took  such  a  fancy  to  her  and  to  the  child  that  they 
brought  her  into  the  palace,  and  were  very  kind  to  her, 
and  took  great  care  of  her ;  so  that  in  a  while  she  got 
well  and  strong  again,  and  much  less  unhappy ;  and 
they  all  made  a  great  pet  of  the  little  boy,  for  they  were 
struck  with  his  strange  likeness  to  the  dead  Rajah  ;  and 
after  a  time  they  gave  his  mother  a  small  house  to  live 
in,  close  to  the  palace,  where  they  often  used  to  go  and 
visit  her.  There  also  the  Chundun  Rajah  would  go 
each  night  when  he  came  to  life,  to  laugh  and  talk  with 
his  wife.and  play  with  his  boy,  although  he  still  refused 
to  tell  his  father  and  mother  of  his  existence.  One  day 


Chundun  Rajah.  2ff 

it  happened,  however,  that  the  little  child  rold  one  of 
the  Princesses  (Chundun  Rajah's  sister)  how  every  even- 
ing some  one  who  came  to  the  house  used  to  laugh  and 
talk  with  his  mother  and  play  with  him,  and  then  go 
away.  The  Princess  also  heard  the  sound  of  voices  in 
Chundun  Ranee's  house,  and  saw  lights  flickering  about 
there  when  they  were  supposed  to  be  fast  asleep.  Of 
this  she  told  her  mother,  saying,  "  Let  us  go  down  to- 
morrow night  and  see  what  this  means ;  perhaps  the 
woman  we  thought  so  poor  and  befriended  thus  is 
nothing  but  a  cheat,  and  entertains  all  her  friends  every 
night  at  our  expense." 

So  the  next  evening  they  went  down  softly,  softly  to 
the  place,  when  they  saw,  not  the  strangers  they  had 
expected,  but  their  long-lost  Chundun  Rajah.  Then, 
since  he  could  not  escape,  he  told  them  all — how  that 
every  night  for  an  hour  or  two  he  came  to  life,  but  was 
dead  all  day.  And  they  rejoiced  greatly  to  see  him 
again,  and  reproached  him  for  not  letting  them  know 
he  ever  lived,  though  for  so  short  a  time.  He  then  told 
them  how  he  had  married  the  Chundun  Ranee,  and 
thanked  them  for  all  their  loving  care  of  her. 

After  this  he  used  to  come  every  night  and  sit  and 
talk  with  them  ;  but  still  each  day,  to  their  great  sorrow, 
he  died ;  nor  could  they  divine  any  means  for  getting 
back  his  Chundun  Har,  which  the  Peri  wore  round  her 
neck. 

At  last  one  evening,  when  they  were  all  laughing 
and  chatting  together,  seven  Peris  flew  into  the  room 
unobserved  by  them,  and  one  of  the  seven  was  the  very 
Peri  who  had  stolen  Chundun  Rajah's  necklace,  and 
bhe  held  it  in  her  hand. 

All  the  young  Peris  were  very  fond  of  the  Chundun 

24 


378  Old  Deccan  Days. 

Rajah  and  Chundun  Ranee's  boy,  and  used  often  to 
come  and  play  with  him,  for  he  was  the  image  of  his 
father's  and  mother's  loveliness,  and  as  fair  as  the  morn- 
ing; and  he  used  to  laugh  and  clap  his  little  hands 
when  he  saw  them  coming ;  for  though  men  and  women 
cannot  see  Peris,  little  children  can. 

Chundun  Rajah  was  tossing  the  child  up  in  the  air 
when  the  Peris  flew  into  the  room,  and  the  little  boy 
was  laughing  merrily.  The  winged  ladies  fluttered 
round  the  Rajah  and  the  child,  and  she  that  had  the 
necklace  hovered  over  his  head.  Then  the  boy,  seeing 
the  glittering  necklace  which  the  Peri  held,  stretched 
out  his  little  arms  and  caught  hold  of  it,  and  as  he  seized 
it  the  string  broke,  and  all  the  beads  fell  upon  the  floor. 
At  this  the  seven  Peris  were  frightened  and  flew  away, 
and  the  Chundun  Ranee,  collecting  the  beads,  strung 
them  and  hung  them  round  the  Rajah's  neck  ;  and  there 
was  great  joy  amongst  those  that  loved  him,  because  he 
had  recovered  the  sacred  necklace,  and  that  the  spell 
which  doomed  him  to  death  was  broken. 

The  glad  news  was  soon  known  throughout  the  king- 
dom, and  all  the  people  were  happy  and  proud  to  hear 
it,  crying,  "  We  have  lost  our  young  Rajah  for  such  a 
long,  long  time,  and  now  one  little  child  has  brought 
him  back  to  life."  And  the  old  Rajah  and  Ranee 
(Chundun  Rajah's  father  and  mother)  determined  that 
he  should  be  married  again  to  the  Chundun  Ranee  with 
great  pomp  and  splendor,  and  they  sent  letters  into  all 
the  kingdoms  of  the  world,  saying, "  Our  son  the  Chun- 
dun  Rajah  has  come  to  life  again,  and  we  pray  you 
come  to  his  wedding." 

Then,  among  those  who  accepted  the  invitation,  were 
the  Chundun  Ranee's  seven  brothers  and  theik-  seven 


Chundun  Rajah.  279 

wives  ;  and  for  her  six  sisters-in-law,  who  had  been  so 
cruel  to  her  and  caused  her  to  be  driven  out  into  the 
jungle,  the  Chundun  Ranee  prepared  six  common 
wooden  stools  ;  but  for  the  seventh,  who  had  been  kind 
to  her,  she  made  ready  an  emerald  throne  and  a  foot- 
stool adorned  with  emeralds. 

When  all  the  Ranees  were  taken  to  their  places,  the 
six  eldest  complained,  saying,  "How  is  this?  Six  of 
us  are  given  only  common  wooden  stools  to  sit  upon, 
but  the  seventh  has  an  emerald  chair  ?"  Then  the  Chun- 
dun  Ranee  stood  up,  and  before  the  assembled  guests 
told  them  her  story,  reminding  her  six  elder  sisters-in- 
law  of  their  former  taunts,  and  how  they  had  forbidden 
her  to  see  them  again  until  the  day  of  her  marriage 
with  the  Chundun  Rajah,  and  she  explained  how  un- 
justly they  had  accused  her  to  her  brothers.  When  the 
Ranees  heard  this  they  were  struck  dumb  with  fear  and 
shame,  and  were  unable  to  answer  a  word ;  and  all 
their  husbands,  being  much  enraged  to  learn  how  they 
had  conspired  to  kill  their  sister-in-law,  commanded 
that  these  wicked  woman  should  be  instantly  hanged, 
which  was  accordingly  done.  Then,  on  the  same  day 
that  the  Chundun  Rajah  remarried  their  sister,  the  six 
elder  brothers  were  married  to  six  beautiful  ladies  of 
the  court  amid  great  and  unheard-of  rejoicings,  and 
from  that  day  they  all  lived  together  in  perfect  peace 
and  harmony  until  their  lives'  end. 


XXI. 

SO  DEW  A    BAI. 

ONCE  upon  a  time  there  lived  a  Rajah  and  Ranee, 
who  had  one  only  daughter,  and  she  was  the 
most  beautiful  Princess  in  the  world.  Her  face  was  as 
fair  and  delicate  as  the  clear  moonlight,  and  they  called 
her  Sodewa  Bai.*  At  her  birth  her  father  and  mother 
had  sent  for  all  the  wise  men  in  the  kingdom  to  tell  her 
fortune,  and  they  predicted  that  she  would  grow  up 
richer  and  more  fortunate  than  any  other  lady ;  and  so 
it  was,  for  from  her  earliest  youth  she  was  good  and 
lovely,  and  whenever  she  opened  her  lips  to  speak 
pearls  and  precious  stones  fell  upon  the  ground,  and  as 
she  walked  along  they  would  scatter  on  either  side  of 
her  path,  insomuch  that  her  father  soon  became  the 
richest  Rajah  in  all  that  country,  for  his  daughter  could 
not  go  across  the  room  without  shaking  down  jewels 
worth  a  dowry.  Moreover,  Sodewa  Bai  was*  born 
with  a  golden  necklace  about  her  neck,  concerning 
which  also  her  parents  consulted  astrologers,  who  said, 
"  This  is  no  common  child  ;  the  necklace  of  gold  about 
her  neck  contains  your  daughter's  soul :  let  it  therefore 
be  guarded  with  the  utmost  care,  for  if  it  were  taken 
off  and  worn  by  another  person  she  would  cie."  So 
the  Ranee,  her  mother,  caused  it  to  be  firm.y  fastened 
*  The  Lady  Good  Fortune. 


Sodeiva  Bai.  281 

round  the  child's  neck,  and  as  soon  as  she  was  old 
enough  to  understand,  instructed  her  concerning  its 
value,  and  bade  her  on  no  account  ever  to  allow  it  to 
be  taken  off. 

At  the  time  my  story  begins  this  Princess  was  four- 
teen years  old,  but  she  was  not  married,  for  her  father 
and  mother  had  promised  that  she  should  not  do  so 
until  it  pleased  herself;  and  although  many  great 
rajahs  and  nobles  sought  her  hand,  she  constantly 
refused  them  all. 

Now  Sodewa  Bai's  father,  on  one  of  her  birth-days, 
gave  her  a  lovely  pair  of  slippers  made  of  gold  and 
jewels.  Each  slipper  was  worth  a  hundred  thousand 
gold  mohurs.  There  were  none  like  them  in  all  the 
earth.  Sodewa  Bai  prized  these  slippers  very  much, 
and  always  wore  them  when  she  went  out  walking,  to 
protect  her  tender  feet  from  the  stones  ;  but  one  day,  as 
she  was  wandering  with  her  ladies  upon  the  side  of  the 
mountain  on  which  the  palace  was  built,  playing  and 
picking  the  wild  flowers,  her  foot  slipped  and  one  of  the 
golden  slippers  fell  down,  down,  down  the  steep  hill- 
slope,  over  rocks  and  stones,  into  the  jungle  below. 
Sodewa  Bai  sent  attendants  to  search  for  it,  and  the 
Rajah  caused  criers  to  go  throughout  the  town  and 
proclaim  that  whoever  discovered  the  Princess'  slipper 
should  receive  a  great  reward ;  but  though  it  was 
hunted  for  far  and  near,  high  and  low,  it  could  not  be 
found. 

It  'chanced,  however,  that  not  very  long  after  this  a 
young  Prince,  the  eldest  son  of  a  Rajah  who  lived  in 
the  plains,  was  out  hunting,  and  in  the  jungle  he  picked 
up  the  very  little  golden  slipper  which  Sodewa  Bai  had 
lost,  and  which  had  tumbled  all  the  way  from  the 
24* 


28  a  Old  Deccan  Days. 

mountain-side  into  the  depths  of  the  forest.  He  took 
it  home  with  him,  and  showed  it  to  his  mother,  saying, 
"  What  a  fairy  foot  must  have  worn  this  tiny  slipper  !" 
"  Ah,  my  boy,"  she  said,  "  this  must  have  belonged  to 
a  lovely  Princess,  in  truth  (if  she  is  but  as  beautiful  as 
her  slipper)  ;  would  that  you  could  find  such  a  one  to 
be  your  wife !"  Then  they  sent  into  all  the  towns 
of  the  kingdom  to  inquire  for  the  owner  of  the  lost 
slipper,  but  she  could  not  be  found.  At  last,  when 
many  months  had  gone  by,  it  happened  that  news  was 
brought  by  travelers  to  the  Rajah's  capital,  of  how,  in 
a  far  distant  land,  very  high  among  the  mountains, 
there  lived  a  beautiful  Princess  who  had  lost  her  slip- 
per, and  whose  father  had  offered  a  great  reward  to 
whoever  should  restore  it;  and  from  the  description 
they  gave  all  were  assured  it  was  the  one  that  the 
Prince  had  found. 

Then  his  mother  said  to  him,  "  My  son,  it  is  certain 
that  the  slipper  you  found  belongs  to  none  other  than 
the  great  Mountain  Rajah's  daughter ;  therefore  take  it 
to  his  palace,  and  when  he  offers  you  the  promised 
reward,  say  that  you  wish  for  neither  silver  nor  gold, 
but  ask  him  to  give  you  his  daughter  in  marriage. 
Thus  you  may  gain  her  for  your  wife." 

The  Prince  did  as  his  mother  advised ;  and  when, 
after  a  long,  long  journey,  he  reached  the  court  of 
Sodewa  Bai's  father,  he  presented  the  slipper  to  him, 
saying,  "  I  have  found  your  daughter's  slipper,  and  for 
restoring  it  I  claim  a  great  reward."  "  What  will  you 
have  ?"  said  the  Rajah.  "  Shall  I  pay  you  in  horses  ?  or 
in  silver?  or  in  gold?"  "  No,"  answered  the  Prince, "  I 
will  have  none  of  these  things.  I  am  the  son  of  a 
Rajah  who  lives  in  the  plains,  and  I  found  this  slipper 


Sodewa  Bai.  283 

in  the  jungle  where  I  was  hunting,  and  have  traveled 
for  many  weary  days  to  bring  it  you  ;  but  the  only  pay 
ment  I  care  for  is  the  hand  of  your  beautiful  daughter ; 
if  it  pleases  you,  let  me  become  your  son-in-law."  The 
Rajah  replied,  "  This  only  I  cannot  promise  you ;  for 
I  have  vowed  I  will  not  oblige  my  daughter  to  marry 
against  her  will.  This  matter  depends  upon  her  alone. 
If  she  is  willing  to  be  your  wife,  I  also  am  willing ; 
but  it  rests  with  her  free  choice."  Now  it  happened  that 
Sodewa  Bai  had  from  her  window  seen  the  Prince 
coming  up  to  the  palace  gate,  and  when  she  heard  his 
errand,  she  said  to  her  father,  "  I  saw  that  Prince,  and 
I  am  willing  to  marry  him."  So  they  were  married 
with  great  pomp  and  splendor.  When  all  the  othei 
Rajah's,  Sodewa  Bai's  suitors,  heard  of  this,  they  were, 
however  much  astonished  as  well  as  vexed,  and  said, 
"  What  can  have  made  Sodewa  Bai  take  a  fancy  to  that 
young  Prince?  He  is  not  so  wonderfully  handsome, 
and  he  is  very  poor.  This  is  a  most  foolish  marriage." 
But  they  all  came  to  it,  and  were  entertained  at  the 
palace,  where  the  wedding  festivities  lasted  many  days. 
After  Sodewa  Bai  and  her  husband  had  lived  there 
for  some  little  time,  he  one  day  said  to  his  father-in-law, 
"  I  have  a  great  desire  to  see  my  own  people  again  and 
to  return  to  my  own  country.  Let  me  take  my  wife 
home  with  me." 

The  Rajah  said,  "Very  well.  I  am  willing  that 
you  should  go.  Take  care  of  your  wife  ;  guard  her  as 
the  apple  of  your  eye  ;  and  be  sure  you  never  permit 
the  golden  necklace  to  be  taken  from  her  neck  and 
given  to  any  one  else,  for  in  that  case  she  would  die." 
The  Prince  promised,  and  he  returned  with  Sodewa 
Bai  to  his  father's  kingdom.  At  their  departure  the 


384  Old  Deccan  Days. 

Rajah  of  the  Mountain  gave  them  many  elephants, 
horses,  camels  and  attendants,  besides  jewels  innume- 
rable and  much  money,  and  many  rich  hangings, 
robes  and  carpets.  The  old  Rajah  and  Ranee  of  the 
Plain  were  delighted  to  welcome  home  their  son  and 
his  beautiful  bride ;  and  there  they  might  all  have  lived 
their  lives  long  in  uninterrupted  peace  and  happiness, 
had  it  not  been  for  one  unfortunate  circumstance. 
Rowjee  (for  that  was  the  Prince's  name)  had  another 
wife,  to  whom  he  had  been  married  when  a  child,  long 
before  he  had  found  Sodewa  Bai's  golden  slipper ;  she 
therefore  was  the  first  Ranee,  though  Sodewa  Bai  was 
the  one  he  loved  the  best  (for  the  first  Ranee  was  of  a 
sullen,  morose  and  jealous  disposition.)  His  father 
also,  and  his  mother,  preferred  Sodewa  Bai  to  their 
other  daughter-in-law.  The  first  Ranee  could  not  bear 
to  think  of  any  one  being  Ranee  beside  herself;  and 
more  especially  of  another  not  only  in  the  same  posi- 
tion, but  better  loved  by  all  around  than  she ;  and 
therefore  in  her  wicked  heart  she  hated  Sodewa  Bai 
and  longed  for  her  destruction,  though  outwardly  she 
pretended  to  be  very  fond  of  her.  The  old  Rajah  and 
Ranee,  knowing  of  the  first  Ranee's  jealous  and  en- 
vious disposition,  never  liked  Sodewa  Bai  to  be  much 
with  her ;  but  as  they  had  only  a  vague  fear,  and  no 
certain  ground  for  alarm,  they  could  do  no  more  than 
watch  both  carefully;  and  Sodewa  Bai,  who  was 
guileless  and  unsuspicious,  would  remonstrate  with 
them  when  they  warned  her  not  to  be  so  intimate  with 
Rowjee  Rajah's  other  wife,  saying,  "  I  have  no  fear. 
I  think  she  loves  me  as  I  love  her.  Why  should  we 
disagree?  Are  we  not  sisters?"  One  day,  Rowjee 
Rajah  was  obliged  to  go  on  a  journey  to  a  distant  part 


Sodewa  Bat.  285 

of  his  father's  kingdom,  and,  being  unable  to  take 
Sodewa  Bai  with  him,  he  left  her  in  his  parents'  charge, 
promising  to  return  soon,  and  begging  them  to  watch 
over  her,  and  to  go  every  morning  and  see  that  she  was 
well ;  which  they  agreed  to  do. 

A  little  while  after  their  husband  had  gone,  the  first 
Ranee  went  to  Sodewa  Bai's  room  and  said  to  her, 
"It  is  lonely  for  us  both,  now  Rowjee  is  away ;  but 
you  must  come  often  to  see  me,  and  I  will  come  often 
to  see  you  and  talk  to  you,  and  so  we  will  amuse  our- 
selves as  well  as  we  can."  To  this  Sodewa  Bai  agreed, 
and  to  amuse  the  first  Ranee  she  took  out  all  her  jewels 
and  pretty  things  to  show  her.  As  they  were  looking 
over  them,  the  first  Ranee  said,  "  I  notice  you  always 
wear  that  row  of  golden  beads  round  your  neck.  Why 
do  you?  Have  you  any  reason  for  always  wearing  the 
same  ones?"  "Oh,  yes,"  answered  Sodewa  Bai, 
thoughtlessly.  "  I  was  born  with  these  beads  round 
my  neck,  and  the  wise  men  told  my  father  and  mother 
that  they  contain  my  soul,  and  that  if  any  one  else  wore 
them  I  should  die.  Therefore  I  always  wear  them.  I 
have  never  once  taken  them  off."  When  the  first 
Ranee  heard  this  news  she  was  very  much  pleased ; 
yet  she  feared  to  steal  the  beads  herself,  both  because 
she  was  afraid  she  might  be  found  out,  and  because  she 
did  not  like  with  her  own  hands  to  commit  the  crime. 
So,  returning  to  her  house,  she  called  her  most  con- 
fidential servant,  a  negress,  whom  she  knew  to  be 
trustworthy,  and  said  to  her,  "  Go  this  evening  to 
Sodewa  Bai's  room  when  she  is  asleep,  and  take  from 
her  neck  the  string  of  golden  beads,  and  fasten  them 
round  your  own  neck,  and  return  to  me.  Those  beads 
contain  her  soul,  and  as  soon  as  you  put  them  on  she 


a86  Old  Dcccan  Days. 

will  cease  to  live."  The  negress  agreed  to  do  as  she 
was  told ;  for  she  had  long  known  that  her  mistress 
hated  Sodewa  Bai  and  desired  nothing  so  much  as  her 
death.  So  that  night,  going  softly  into  the  sleeping 
Ranee's  room,  she  stole  the  golden  necklace,  and  fast- 
ening it  round  her  own  neck,  crept  away  without  any 
one  knowing  what  was  done ;  and  when  the  negress 
put  on  the  necklace,  Sodewa  Bai's  spirit  fled. 

Next  morning  the  old  Rajah  and  Ranee  went  as 
usual  to  see  their  daughter-in-law,  and  knocked  at  the 
door  of  her  room.  No  one  answered.  They  knocked 
again  and  again  ;  still  no  reply.  They  then  went  in, 
and  found  her  lying  there,  cold  as  marble  and  quite 
dead,  though  she  seemed  very  well  when  they  had  seen 
her  before.  They  asked  her  attendants,  who  slept  just 
outside  her  door,  whether  she  had  been  ill  that  night, 
or  if  any  one  had  gone  into  her  room  ?  But  they  de- 
clared they  had  heard  no  sound,  and  were  sure  no  one 
had  been  near  the  place.  In  vain  the  Rajah  and 
Ranee  sent  for  the  most  learned  doctors  in  the  king- 
dom, to  see  if  there  was  still  any  spark  of  life  remain- 
ing ;  all  said  that  the  young  Ranee  was  dead,  beyond 
reach  of  hope  or  help. 

Then  the  Rajah  and  Ranee  were  very  much  grieved, 
and  mourned  bitterly ;  and  because  they  desired  that, 
if  possible,  Rowjee  Rajah  should  see  his  wife  once 
again,  instead  of  burying  her  underground,  they  placed 
her  beneath  a  canopy  in  a  beautiful  tomb  near  a  little 
tank,  and  would  go  daily  to  visit  the  place  and  look  at 
her.  Then  did  a  wonder  take  place,  such  as  had  never 
been  known  throughout  the  land  before !  Sodewa 
Bai's  body  did  not  decay  nor  the  color  of  her  face 
change ;  and  a  month  afterward,  when  her  husband 


Sodewa  Bat.  287 

returned  home,  she  looked  as  fair  and  lovely  as  on  the 
night  on  which  she  died.  There  was  a  fresh  color  in 
her  cheeks  and  on  her  lips ;  she  seemed  to  oe  only 
asleep.  When  poor  Rowjee  Rajah  heard  of  her  death 
he  was  so  broken-hearted  they  thought  he  also  would 
die.  He  cursed  the  evil  fate  that  had  obliged  him  to 
go  away  and  deprive  him  of  hearing  her  last  words,  ct 
bidding  her  farewell,  if  he  could  not  save  her  life  ;  and 
from  morning  to  evening  he  would  go  to  her  tomb, 
and  rend  the  air  with  his  passionate  lamentations,  and 
looking  through  the  grating  to  where  she  lay  calm  and 
still  under  the  canopy,  say,  before  he  went  away,  "  I 
will  take  one  last  look  at  that  fair  face.  To-morrow 
Death  may  have  set  his  seal  upon  it.  Oh,  loveliness, 
too  bright  for  earth  !  Oh,  lost,  lost  wife  !" 

The  Rajah  and  Ranee  feared  that  he  would  die  or  go 
mad,  and  they  tried  to  prevent  his  going  to  the  tomb  ; 
but  all  was  of  no  avail ;  it  seemed  to  be  the  only  thing 
he  cared  for  in  life. 

Now  the  negress  who  had  stolen  Sodewa  Bai's  neck- 
lace used  to  wear  it  all  day  long,  but  late  each  night, 
on  going  to  bed,  she  would  take  it  off  and  put  it  by  till 
next  morning,  and  whenever  she  took  it  off  Sodewa 
Bai's  spirit  returned  to  her  again,  and  she  lived  till  day 
dawned  and  the  negress  put  on  the  necklace,  when  she 
again  died.  But  as  the  tomb  was  far  from  any  houses, 
and  the  old  Rajah  and  Ranee  and  Rowjee  Rajah  only 
went  there  by  day,  nobody  found  this  out.  When 
Sodewa  Bai  first  came  to  life  in  this  way,  she  felt  very 
much  frightened  to  find  herself  there  all  alone  in  the 
dark,  and  thought  she  was  in  prison ;  but  afterward 
she  got  more  accustomed  to  it,  and  determined  when 
morning  came  to  look  about  the  place  and  find  her  way 


a88  Old  Deccan  Days. 

back  to  the  palace,  and  recover  the  necklace  she  found 
she  had  lost  (for  it  would  have  been  dangerous  to  go  at 
night  through  the  jungles  that  surrounded  the  tomb, 
where  she  could  hear  the  wild  beasts  roaring  all  night 
long) ;  but  morning  never  came,  for  whenever  the 
negiess  awoke  and  put  on  the  golden  beads  Sodewa 
Bai  died.  However,  each  night,  when  the  Ranee  came 
to  life,  she  would  walk  to  the  little  tank  by  the  tomb 
and  drink  some  of  the  cool  water,  and  return  ;  but  food 
she  had  none.  Now,  no  pearls  or  precious  stones  fell 
from  her  lips,  because  she  had  no  one  to  talk  to ;  but 
each  time  she  walked  down  to  the  tank  she  scattered 
jewels  on  either  side  of  her  path  ;  and  one  day,  when 
Rowjee  Rajah  went  to  the  tomb,  he  noticed  all  these 
jewels,  and  thinking  it  very  strange  (though  he  never 
dreamed  that  his  wife  could  come  to  life),  determined 
to  watch  and  see  whence  they  came.  But  although  he 
watched  and  waited  long,  he  could  not  find  out  the 
cause,  because  all  day  long  Sodewa  Bai  lay  still  and 
dead,  and  only  came  to  life  at  night.  It  was  just  at  this 
time,  two  whole  months  after  she  had  been  buried,  and 
the  night  after  the  very  day  that  Rowjee  Rajah  had 
spent  in  watching  by  the  tomb,  that  Sodewa  Bai  had  a 
little  son  ;  but  directly  after  he  was  born  day  dawned, 
and  the  mother  died.  The  little  lonely  baby  began 
to  cry,  but  no  one  was  there  to  hear  him  ;  and,  as  it 
chanced,  the  Rajah  did  not  go  the  tomb  that  day,  for 
he  thought,  "  All  yesterday  I  watched  by  the  tomb  and 
saw  nothing ;  instead,  therefore,  of  going  to-day,  I  will 
wait  till  the  evening,  and  then  see  again  if  I  cannot  find 
out  how  the  jewels  came  there." 

So  at  night  he  went  to  the  place.     When  he  got  there 
he  heard  a  faint  cry  from  inside  the  tomb,  but  what  it 


Sodewa  Bai.  389 

was  he  knew  not ;  perhaps  it  might  be  a  Peri  or  an 
evil  spirit.  As  he  was  wondering  the  door  opened  and 
Sodewa  Bai  crossed  the  courtyard  to  the  tank  with  a 
child  in  her  arms,  and  as  she  walked  showers  of  jewels 
fell  on  both  sides  of  her  path.  Rowjee  Rajah  thought 
he  must  be  in  a  dream ;  but  when  he  saw  the  Ranee 
drink  some  water  from  the  tank  and  return  toward  the 
tomb,  he  sprang  up  and  hurried  after  her.  Sodewa 
Bai,  hearing  footsteps  follow  her,  was  frightened,  and 
running  into  the  tomb,  fastened  the  door.  Then  the 
Rajah  knocked  at  it,  saying,  "  Let  me  in  ;  let  me  in." 
She  answered,  "  Who  are  you  ?  Are  you  a  Rakshas  or 
a  spirit?"  (For  she  thought,  "Perhaps  this  is  some 
cruel  creature  who  will  kill  me  and  the  child.")  "  No, 
no,"  cried  the  Rajah,  "  I  am  no  Rakshas,  but  your 
husband.  Let  me  in,  Sodewa  Bai,  if  you  are  indeed 
alive."  No  sooner  did  he  name  her  name  than  Sodewa 
Bai  knew  his  voice,  and  unbolted  the  door  and  let  him 
in.  Then,  when  he  saw  her  sitting  on  the  tomb  with 
the  baby  on  her  lap,  he  fell  down  on  his  knees  before 
her,  saying,  "  Tell  me,  little  wife,  that  this  is  not  a 
dream."  "  No,"  she  answered,  "  I  am  indeed  alive, 
and  this  our  child  was  born  last  night ;  but  every  day  I 
die,  for  while  you  were  away  some  one  stole  my  golden 
necklace." 

Then  for  the  first  time  Rowjee  Rajah  noticed  that 
the  beads  were  no  longer  round  her  neck.  So  he  bade 
her  fear  nothing,  for  that  he  would  assuredly  recover 
them  and  return  ;  and  going  back  to  the  palace,  which 
he  reached  in  the  early  morning,  he  summoned  before 
him  the  whole  household. 

Then,  upon  the  neck  of  the  negress,  servant  to  the 
first  Ranee,  he  saw  Sodewa  Bai's  missing  necklace,  and 
26  N 


390  Old  Deccan  Days. 

seizing  it,  ordered  the  guards  to  take  the  woman  to 
prison.  The  negress,  frightened,  confessed  all  she  had 
done  by  order  of  the  first  Ranee,  and  how,  at  her  com- 
mand, she  had  stolen  the  necklace.  And  when  the 
Rajah  learnt  this  he  ordered  that  the  first  Ranee  also 
should  be  imprisoned  for  life,  and  he  and  his  father 
and  mother  all  went  together  to  the  tomb,  and  placing 
the  lost  beads  round  Sodewa  Bai's  neck,  brought  her 
and  the  child  back  in  triumph  with  them  to  the  palace. 
Then,  at  news  of  how  the  young  Ranee  had  been  re- 
stored to  life,  there  was  great  joy  throughout  all  that 
country,  and  many  days  were  spent  in  rejoicings  in 
honor  of  that  happy  event ;  and  for  the  rest  of  their 
lives  the  old  Rajah  and  Ranee,  and  Rowjee  Rajah  and 
Sodewa  Bai,  and  all  the  family,  lived  in  health  and 
nappiness. 


XXII. 
CHANDRA'S    VENGEANCE. 

'  V^HERE  was  once  a  Sowkar's*  wife  who  had  no 
JL  children  ;  one  day  she  went  crying  to  her  husband 
and  saying,  "What  an  unhappy  woman  I  am  to  have 
no  children !  If  I  had  any  children  to  amuse  me  I 
should  be  quite  happy."  He  answered,  "Why  should 
you  be  miserable  on  that  account ;  though  you  have  no 
children,  your  sister  has  eight  or  nine ;  why  not  adopt 
one  of  hers  ?"  The  Sowkar's  wife  agreed,  and,  adopt- 
ing one  of  her  sister's  little  boys,  who  was  only  six 
months  old,  brought  him  up  as  her  own  son.  Some 
time  afterward,  when  the  child  was  one  day  returning 
from  school,  he  and  one  of  his  schoolfellows  quarreled 
and  began  to  fight,  and  the  other  boy  (being  much  the 
older  and  strongei  of  the  two)  gave  him  a  great  blow 
on  the  head  and  knocked  him  down,  and  hurt  him  very 
much.  The  boy  ran  crying  home,  and  the  Sowkar's 
wife  bathed  his  head  and  bandaged  it  up,  but  she  did 
not  send  and  punish  the  boy  who  hurt  him,  for  she 
thought,  "  One  can't  keep  children  shut  up  always  in 
the  house,  and  they  will  be  fighting  together  sometimes 
and  hurting  themselves."  Then  the  child  grumbled  to 
himself,  saying,  "  This  is  only  my  aunt ;  that  is  why 
*  Merchant's. 

191 


292  Old  Deccan  Days. 

she  did  not  punish  the  other  boy.  If  she  had  been  my 
mother,  she  would  certainly  have  given  him  a  great 
knock  on  his  head  to  punish  him  for  knocking  mine, 
but  because  she  is  only  my  aunt,  I  suppose  she  doesn't 
care."  The  Sowkar's  wife  overheard  him,  and  felt  very 
much  grieved,  saying,  "  This  little  child,  whom  I  have 
watched  over  from  his  babyhood,  does  not  love  me  as 
if  I  were  his  mother.  It  is  of  no  use ;  he  is  not  my 
own,  and  he  will  never  care  for  me  as  such."  So  she 
took  him  home  to  his  own  mother,  saying,  "  Sister,  I 
have  brought  you  back  your  child."  "How  is  this?" 
asked  her  sister.  "  You  adopted  him  as  yours  for  all 
his  life.  Why  do  you  now  bring  him  back?"  The 
Sowkar's  wife  did  not  tell  her  sister  what  she  had  heard 
the  boy  say,  but  she  answered,  "  Very  well ;  let  him  be 
yours  and  mine :  he  shall  live  a  while  with  you,  and 
then  come  and  visit  me ;  we  will  both  take  care  of 
him."  And  returning  to  her  husband,  she  told  him 
what  she  had  done,  saying  "  All  my  pains  are  useless ; 
you  know  how  kind  I  have  been  to  my  sister's  boy, 
yet,  after  all  I  haVe  done  for  him,  at  the  end  of  seven 
years  he  does  not  love  me  as  well  as  he  does  his  mother, 
whom  he  had  scarcely  seen.  Now,  therefore,  I  will 
never  rest  until  I  have  seen  Mahdeo*  and  asked  him  to 
grant  that  I  may  have  a  child  of  my  own."f 

"  What  a  foolish  woman  you  are !"  answered  her 
husband;  "why  not  be  content  with  your  lot?  How 
do  you  think  you  will  find  Mahdeo  ?  Do  you  know 
the  road  to  heaven  ?"  "  Nay,"  she  replied,  "  but  I 
will  seek  for  it  until  I  find  it  out,  and  if  I  never  find  it, 
it  cannot  be  helped,  but  I  will  return  home  no  more 
unless  my  prayer  is  answered."  So  she  left  the  house, 
*  The  Creator.  f  See  Notes  at  the  end. 


Chandra's   Vengeance.  293 

and  wandered  into  the  jungle,  and  after  she  had  traveled 
through  it  for  many,  many  days,  and  left  her  own 
land  very  far  behind,  she  came  to  the  borders  of  an- 
other country,  even  the  Madura  Tinivelly*  country, 
where  a  great  river  rolled  down  toward  the  sea.  On 
the  river-bank  sat  two  women — a  Ranee  named  Cop- 
linghee  Ranee  and  a  Nautch  woman. 

Now,  neither  the  Ranee,  the  Nautch  woman  nor  the 
Sowkar's  wife  had  ever  seen  each  other  before  they  met 
at  the  river-side.  Then,  as  she  sat  down  to  rest  and 
drink  some  of  the  water,  the  Ranee  turned  to  the  Sow- 
kar's wife  and  said  to  her,  "  Who  are  you,  and  where 
are  you  going  ?"  She  answered,  "  I  am  a  Sowkar's  wife 
from  a  far  country,  and  because  I  was  very  unhappy  at 
having  no  children,  I  am  going  to  find  Mahdeo  and  ask 
him  to  grant  that  I  may  have  a  child  of  my  own." 

Then,  in  her  turn,  she  said  to  the  Ranee,  "And 
pray  who  are  you,  and  where  are  you  going?"  The 
Ranee  answered,  "  I  am  Coplinghee  Ranee,  queen  of 
all  this  country,  but  neither  money  nor  riches  can  give 
me  joy,  for  I  have  no  children  ;  I  therefore  am  going  to 
seek  Mahdeo  and  ask  him  to  grant  that  I  may  have  a 
child."  Then  Coplinghee  Ranee  asked  the  Nautch 
woman  the  same  question,  saying,  "  And  who  may 
you  be,  and  where  are  you  going?"  The  Nautch 
woman  answered,  "  I  am  a  dancing  woman  and  I  also 
have  no  children,  and  am  going  to  seek  Mahdeo  and 
pray  to  him  for  a  child."  At  hearing  this,  the  Sowkar's 
wife  said,  "  Since  we  are  all  journeying  on  the  same 
errand,  why  should  we  not  go  together?"  To  this 
Coplinghee  Ranee  and  the  Dancing  woman  agreed,  so 

*  Two  provinces  of  the  Madras  Presidency,  on  the  mainland 
opposite  Ceylon.    They  are  famous  in  Hindoo  mythology. 
25  • 


294  Old  Deccan  Days. 

they  all  three  continued  their  journey  together  through 
the  jungle. 

On,  on,  on  they  went,  every  day  further  and  further  ; 
they  never  stayed  to  rest  nor  saw  another  human  being. 
Their  feet  ached  dreadfully  and  their  clothes  wore  out, 
and  they  had  nothing  to  live  on  but  the  jungle  plants, 
wild  berries  and  seeds.  So  weary  and  worn  did  they 
become  that  they  looked  like  three  poor  old  beggar 
women.  Never  had  they  by  night-time  sleep  nor  by 
day-time  rest ;  and  so,  hour  after  hour,  month  after 
month,  year  after  year,  they  traveled  on. 

At  last  one  day  they  came  to  where,  in  the  midst,  of 
the  jungle,  there  rolled  a  great  river  of  fire.  It  was 
the  biggest  river  they  had  ever  seen,  and  made  of  flames 
instead  of  water.  There  was  no  one  on  this  side  and 
no  one  on  that — no  way  of  getting  across  but  by  walk- 
ing through  the  fire. 

When  Coplinghee  Ranee  and  the  Nautch  woman 
saw  this,  they  said,  "Alas!  here  is  the  end  of  all  our 
pains  and  trouble.  All  hope  is  over,  for  we  can  go  no 
farther."  But  the  Sowkar's  wife  answered,  "  Shall  we 
be  deterred  by  this  after  having  come  so  far?  Nay, 
rather  seek  a  way  across  the  fire."  And  so  saying,  she 
stepped  into  the  fire  waves ;  the  others,  however,  were 
afraid,  and  would  not  go.  When  the  Sowkar's  wife  had 
half  crossed  the  river  of  fire,  she  turned,  and  waving  her 
hands  toward  them,  said,  "  Come  on,  come  on,  do  not  be 
afraid.  The  fire  does  not  burn  me.  I  go  to  find  Mah- 
deo  ;  perhaps  he  is  on  the  other  side."*  But  they  still 
refused,  saying,  "  We  cannot  come,  but  we  will  wait 
here  until  your  return ;  and  if  you  find  Mahdeo,  pray 
tor  us  also,  that  we  may  have  children." 
*  See  Notes  at  the  end. 


Chandra's   Vengeauce.  295 

So  the  Sowkar's  wife  went  on  her  way,  and  the  fire- 
waves  lapped  round  her  feet  as  if  they  had  been  water, 
but  they  did  not  hurt  her. 

When  she  reached  the  other  side  of  the  river  she  came 
upon  a  great  wilderness,  full  of  wild  elephants,  and 
bison,  and  lions,  and  tigers,  and  bears,  that  roared  and 
growled  on  every  side.  But  she  did  not  turn  back  for 
fear  of  them,  for  she  said  to  herself,  "  I  can  but  die 
once,  and  it  is  better  that  they  should  kill  me  than  that 
I  should  return  without  finding  Mahdeo."  And  all  the 
wild  beasts  allowed  her  to  pass  through  the  midst  of 
them  and  did  her  no  harm. 

Now  it  came  to  pass  that  Mahdeo  looked  down  from 
heaven  and  saw  her,  and  when  he  saw  her  he  pitied  her 
greatly,  for  she  had  been  twelve  years  wandering  upon 
the  face  of  the  earth  to  find  him.  Then  he  caused  a 
beautiful  mango  tree,  beside  a  fair  well,  to  spring  up  in 
the  desert  to  give  her  rest  and  refreshment,  and  he  him- 
self, in  the  disguise  of  a  Gosain  Fakeer,  came  and  stood 
by  the  tree.  But  the  Sowkar's  wife  would  not  stay  to 
gather  the  fruit  or  drink  the  water ;  she  did  not  so  much 
as  notice  the  Fakeer,  but  walked  straight  on  in  her 
weary  search  for  Mahdeo.  Then  he  called  after  her, 
"  Bai,  Bai,  where  are  you  going?  Come  here."  She 
answered,  scarcely  looking  at  him,  "  It  matters  not  to 
you,  Fakeer,  where  I  am  going.  You  tell  your  prayer- 
beads  and  leave  me  alone.''  "  Come  here,"  he  cried  ; 
"  come  here."  But  she  would  not,  so  Mahdeo  went 
and  stood  in  front  of  her,  no  longer  disguised  as  a 
Fakeer,  but  shining  brightly,  the  Lord  of  Kylas*  in  all 
his  beauty,  and  at  the  sight  of  him  the  poor  Sowkar's 
wife  fell  down  on  the  ground  and  kissed  his  feet,  and 
*  The  Hindoo  heaven. 


296  Old  Deccan  Days. 

he  said  to  her,  u  Tell  me,  Bai,  where  are  you  going?" 
She  answered,  "  Sir,  I  seek  Mahdeo,  to  pray  him  to 
grant  that  I  may  have  a  child,  but  for  twelve  years  I 
have  looked  for  him  in  vain."  He  said,  "  Seek  na 
further,  for  I  am  Mahdeo ;  take  this  mango,"  and  he 
gathered  one  off  the  tree  that  grew  by  the  well,  "  and 
eat  it,  and  it  shall  come  to  pass  that  when  you  return 
home  you  shall  have  a  child."  Then  she  said,  "  Sir, 
three  women  came  seeking  you,  but  two  stayed  by  the 
river  of  fire,  for  they  were  afraid ;  may  not  they  also 
have  children  ?  " 

"  If  you  will,"  he  answered,  "you  may  give  them 
some  of  your  mango,  and  then  they  also  will  each  have 
a  child." 

So  saying,  he  faded  from  her  sight,  and  the  Sowkar's 
wife  returned  glad  and  joyful,  through  the  wilderness  and 
the  river  of  fire,  to  where  the  Ranee  and  the  Dancing 
woman  were  waiting  for  her  on  the  other  side.  When 
they  saw  her,  they  said,  "  Well,  Sowkar's  wife,  what 
news  ? "  She  answered,  "  I  have  found  Mahdeo,  and 
he  has  given  me  this  mango,  of  which  if  we  eat  we 
shall  each  have  a  child."  And  she  took  the  mango, 
and  squeezing  it  gave  the  juice  to  the  Ranee,  and  the 
skin  she  gave  to  the  Nautch  woman,  and  the  pulp  and 
the  stone  she  ate  herself. 

Then  these  three  women  returned  to  their  own  homes ; 
Coplinghee  Ranee  and  the  Dancing  woman  to  the  Ma- 
dura Tinivelly  country,  and  the  Sowkar's  wife  to  very, 
very  far  beyond  that,  even  the  land  where  her  husbarjJ 
lived,  and  whence  she  had  first  started  on  her  journey. 

But  on  their  return  all  their  friends  only  laughed  at 
them,  and  the  Sowkar  said  to  his  wife,  "  I  cannot  see 
much  good  in  your  mad  twelve-years'  journey ;  you  only 


Chandra's   Vengeance.  397 

come  back  looking  like  a  beggar,  and  all  the  world 
laughs  at  you." 

"  I  don't  care,"  she  answered ;  "  I  have  seen  Mahdeo 
and  eaten  of  the  mango,  and  I  shall  have  a  child." 

And  within  a  little  while  it  came  to  pass  that  there 
was  born  to  the  Sowkar  and  his  wife  a  little  son,  and 
on  the  very  same  day  Coplinghee  Ranee  had  a  daughter 
and  the  Nautch  woman  had  a  daughter. 

Then  were  they  all  very  happy,  and  sent  everywhere 
to  tell  their  friends  the  good  news ;  and  each  gave, 
according  to  her  power,  a  great  feast  to  the  poor  as  a 
thank-offering  to  Mahdeo,  who  had  been  merciful  to 
them.  And  the  Sowkar's  wife  called  her  son  "  Koila,"* 
in  memory  of  the  mango  stone  ;  and  the  Nautch  woman 
called  her  daughter  "  Moulee  ;"f  and  the  little  Princess 
was  named  Chandra  Bai,J  for  she  was  as  fair  and  beau- 
tiful as  the  white  moon. 

Chandra  Ranee  was  very  beautiful,  the  most  beautiful 
child  in  all  that  country,  so  pretty  and  delicately  made 
that  everybody,  when  they  saw  her,  loved  her.  She 
was  born,  moreover,  with,  on  her  ankles,  two  of  the 
most  costly  anklets  that  ever  were  seen.  They  were 
made  of  gold  and  very  precious  stones,  dazzling  to  look 
at,  like  the  sun.  No  one  had  ever  seen  any  like  them 
before.  Every  day,  as  the  baby  grew,  these  bangles 
grew,  and  round  them  were  little  bells,  which  tinkled 
when  any  one  came  near.  Chandra's  parents  were  very 
happy  and  proud,  and  sent  for  all  the  wise  men  in  the 
kingdom  to  tell  her  fortune.  But  the  most  learned 
Brahmin  of  them  all,  when  he  saw  her,  said,  "  This 
child  must  be  sent  out  of  the  country  at  once,  for  if  she 

*  He  of  the  mango  stone.        f  From  the  sweet  mango  pulp. 
I  The  Moon  Lady. 


2iJ8  Old  Deccan  Days. 

stays  in  it  she  will  destroy  all  the  land  with  fire  ,id 
burn  it  utterly." 

The  Rajah,  at  hearing  these  words,  was  very  argry, 
and  said  to  the  Brahmin,  "  I  will  cut  off  your  head,  for 
you  tell  lies  and  not  the  truth."  The  Brahmin  answered, 
"  Cut  off  my  head  if  you  will,  but  it  is  the  truth  I  speak, 
and  no  lie.  If  you  do  not  believe  me,  let  a  little  wool 
be  fetched,  and  put  it  upon  the  child,  that  you  may  know 
my  words  are  true." 

So  they  fetched  some  wool  and  laid  it  upon  the  baby, 
and  no  sooner  had  they  done  so  than  it  all  blazed  up 
and  burnt  till  not  a  bit  was  left,  and  it  scorched  the 
hands  of  the  attendants. 

Then  the  Brahmin  said,  "  As  this  fire  has  burnt  the 
wool,  so  will  this  Princess  one  day,  if  she  comes  here, 
burn  this  whole  land."  And  they  were  all  very  much 
frightened,  and  the  Rajah  said  to  the  Ranee,  "  This 
being  so,  the  child  must  be  sent  out  of  the  country 
instantly."  The  poor  Ranee  thereat  was  very  sad,  and 
she  did  all  in  her  power  to  save  her  little  baby,  but  the 
Rajah  would  not  hear  of  it,  and  commanded  that  the 
Princess  should  be  placed  in  a  large  box,  and  taken  to 
the  borders  of  his  land,  where  a  great  river  rolled  down 
to  the  sea,  and  there  thrown  into  the  stream,  that  it 
might  carry  her  far,  far  away,  each  minute  farther  from 
her  native  land.*  Then  the  Ranee  caused  a  beautiful 
golden  box  to  be  made,  and  put  her  little  baby  in  it  with 
many  tears  (since  all  her  efforts  to  save  it  were  of  no 
avail),  and  it  was  taken  away  and  thrown  into  the  river. 

The  box  floated  on,  and  on,  and  on,  until  at  last  it 
reached  the  country  where  the  Sowkar  and  the  Sow- 
kar's  wife  lived.  Now  it  chanced  that,  just  as  the  box 
*  See  Notes  at  the  end. 


Chandra's   Vengeance.  299 

was  floating  by,  the  Sowkar,  who  had  gone  down  to  the 
river  to  wash  his  face,  caught  sight  of  it,  and  seeing  a 
Fisherman  not  far  off  prepared  to  throw  his  net  into  the 
water,  he  cried,  "  Run,  Fisherman,  run,  run ;  do  not 
stop  to  fish,  but  cast  your  net  over  that  glittering  box  and 
bring  it  here  to  me." 

"  I  will  not,  unless  you  promise  me  that  the  box 
shall  be  mine,"  said  the  Fisherman.  "  Very  well," 
answered  the  Sowkar,  u  the  box  shall  be  yours,  and 
whatever  it  contains  shall  belong  to  me." 

So  the  Fisherman  cast  his  net  in  that  part  of  the 
river  and  dragged  the  box  ashore. 

I  don't  know  which  was  most  astonished — the  Mer- 
chant or  the  Fisherman — when  they  saw  what  a  prize 
they  had  found.  For  the  box  was  composed  entirely 
of  gold  and  precious  stones,  and  within  it  lay  the  most 
lovely  little  child  that  ever  was  seen. 

She  seemed  a  little  Princess,  for  her  dress  was  all 
made  of  cloth  of  gold,  and  on  her  feet  were  two 
anklets  that  shone  like  the  sun. 

When  the  Sowkar  opened  the  box,  she  smiled  ;  and 
stretched  out  her  little  arms  toward  him.  Then  he 
was  pleased,  and  said,  "  Fisherman,  the  box  is  yours, 
but  this  child  must  belong  to  me."  The  Fisherman  was 
content  that  it  should  be  so,  for  he  had  many  children 
of  his  own  at  home,  and  wanted  no  more,  but  was 
glad  to  have  the  golden  box ;  while  the  Sowkar,  who 
had  only  his  one  little  son  and  was  rich,  did  not  care 
for  the  box,  but  was  well  pleased  to  have  the  baby. 

He  took  her  home  to  his  wife,  and  said,  "  See,  wife, 
here  is  a  pretty  little  daughter-in-law  for  us.  Here  is 
a  wife  *br  your  little  son."  And  when  the  Sowkar*s 
rtrife  saw  the  child  looking  so  beautiful  and  smiling  so 


300  Old  Deccan  Days. 

sweetly,  her  heart  was  glad  and  she  loved  her,  and 
from  that  day  took  the  greatest  care  of  her,  just  as  if 
the  baby  girl  had  been  her  own  daughter.  And  when 
Chandra  Ranee  was  a  year  old  they  married  her  to 
their  son,  Koila. 

Years  wore  on,  and  the  Sowkar  and  his  wife  were  in 
a  good  old  age  gathered  to  their  fathers.  Meantime, 
Koila  and  Chandra  had  grown  up  the  handsomest 
couple  in  all  the  country :  Koila  tall  and  straight,  with 
a  face  like  a  young  lion,  and  Chandra  as  lithe  and 
graceful  as  a  palm  tree,  with  a  face  calm  and  beautiful 
like  the  silver  moonlight. 

Meantime  Moulee,  the  Nautch  woman's  daughter 
(and  third  of  the  mango  children),  had  likewise  grown 
up  in  the  Madura  Tinivelly  country,  and  was  also  very 
fair — fairer  than  any  one  in  all  the  land  around.  More- 
over, she  danced  and  sang  more  beautifully  than  any 
of  the  other  Nautch  girls.  Her  voice  was  clear  as  the 
voice  of  a  quail,  and  it  rang  through  the  air  with 
such  power  that  the  sound  could  be  heard  a  twelve- 
days'  journey  off.  The  Nautch  people  used  to  travel 
about  from  place  to  place,  staying  one  day  in  one  town 
and  the  next  in  another,  and  so  it  happened  that  in 
their  wanderings  they  reached  the  borders  of  the  land 
where  Koila  and  Chandra  lived. 

One  morning  Koila  heard  the  sound  of  singing  m  the 
distance,  and  it  pleased  him  so  well  that  he  determined 
to  try  and  discover  who  it  was  that  possessed  such  an 
exquisite  voice.  For  twelve  days  he  journeyed  on 
through  the  jungle,  each  day  hearing  the  singing  re- 
peated louder  and  louder,  yet  still  without  reaching  the 
place  whence  it  came.  At  last,  on  the  twelfth  day,  he 
got  close  to  the  Nautch  people's  encampment,  not  fai 


Chandrcts    Vengeance.  301 

from  a  large  town,  and  there  saw  the  singer  (who  was 
none  other  than  Moulee),  singing  and  dancing  in  the 
midst  of  a  great  crowd  of  people  who  had  collected 
around  her.  In  her  hand  she  held  a  garland  of  flowers, 
which  she  waved  over  her  head  as  she  danced. 

Koila  was  so  charmed  with  the  sound  of  her  voice  that 
he  felt  spell-bound,  and  stood  where  he  was,  far  off  on 
the  outskirts  of  the  jungle,  listening,  without  going  any 
nearer. 

When  the  entertainment  was  over,  all  the  people 
crowded  round  Moulee,  saying,  "Why  should  you, 
who  have  such  a  beautiful  voice,  go  away  and  leave 
our  city  ?  Marry  one  of  us,  and  then  you  will  stay  here 
always."  Then,  the  number  of  her  suitors  being  so 
great  that  she  did  not  know  whom  to  choose,  she  said, 
"  Very  well ;  he  on  whose  neck  this  garland  falls  shall 
be  my  husband."  And  waving  the  flowers  she  held 
two  or  three  times  round  her  head,  she  threw  them 
from  her  with  her  utmost  force. 

The  impetus  given  to  the  garland  was  so  great  that 
it  swung  through  the  air  beyond  the  crowd  and  fell 
upon  the  neck  of  Koila  as  he  stood  by  the  borders  of 
the  jungle.  And  the  people  ran  to  see  who  was  the 
fortunate  possessor,  and  when  they  saw  Koila  they 
were  astonished,  for  he  looked  more  beautiful  than 
any  of  the  sons  of  men  :  it  was  as  if  an  immortal  had 
suddenly  come  among  them.  And  the  Nautch  people 
dragged  him  back  to  their  camp,  crying,  "  You  have 
won  the  garland;  you  must  be  Moulee's  husband." 
He  answered,  "  I  only  came  here  to  look  on  ;  I  cannot 
stay.  This  is  not  my  country ;  I  have  a  wife  of  my 
own  at  home."  "  That  is  nothing  to  us,"  they  said ; 
"  it  is  your  destiny  to  marry  Moulee — Moulee  the 
16 


302  Old  Deccan  Days. 

beautiful  one — Moulee,  whose  voice  you  heard  and  who 
dances  so  well.  You  must  marry  her,  for  the  garland 
fell  on  you." 

Now  so  it  was,  that  though  Koila  was  very  kind  to 
his  wife,  he  did  not  love  her  as  well  as  she  loved  him 
(perhaps  it  was  that,  having  been  accustomed  to  her 
from  a  child,  Chandra's  goodness  and  beauty  struck 
him  less  than  it  did  other  people)  ;  and  instead  of  think- 
ing how  unhappy  she  would  be  if  he  did  not  return, 
and  going  back  at  once,  he  stopped  and  hesitated  and 
debated  what  to  do.  And  the  Nautch  people  gave  him 
a  drink  that  was  a  very  powerful  spell,  insomuch  that 
he  soon  totally  forgot  about  his  own  home,  and  was 
married  to  Moulee,  the  Nautch  girl,  and  lived  among 
the  Nautch  people  for  many  months.  At  last,  one  day, 
Moulee's  mother  (the  very  Nautch  woman  who  had 
gone  with  Coplinghee  Ranee  and  the  Sowkar's  wife  to 
find  Mahdeo)  said  to  Koila,  "  Son-in-law,  you  are  a 
lazy  fellow ;  you  have  been  here  now  for  a  long  time, 
but  you  do  nothing  for  your  support ;  it  is  we  who 
have  to  pay  for  your  food,  we  who  have  to  provide  your 
clothes.  Go  now  and  fetch  us  some  money,  or  I  will 
turn  you  out  of  the  house,  and  you  shall  never  see 
your  wife  Moulee  again."  Koila  had  no  money  to  give 
his  mother-in-law :  then,  for  the  first  time  he  bethought 
him  of  his  own  country  and  of  Chandra,  and  he  said 
"  My  first  wife,  who  lives  in  my  own  country,  has  on 
her  feet  two  bangles  of  very  great  value ;  let  me  return 
home  and  fetch  one  of  them  to  sell,  which  will  more 
than  pay  whatever  I  owe  you."  The  Nautch  people 
consented.  So  Koila  returned  to  his  own  home,  and 
told  Chandra  what  he  wanted  the  money  for,  and  asked 
her  to  let  him  have  one  of  her  bangles ;  but  she  refused, 


Chandra's   Vengeance.  303 

saying,  "  You  have  been  away  a  long,  long  time,  and 
left  me  all  alone,  and  chosen  for  your  second  wife  one 
of  the  Nautch  people,  and  become  one  of  them ; 
and  now  you  want  to  take  one  of  my  bangles — 
the  bangles  that  I  had  when  a  little  child,  that  have 
grown  with  my  growth,  and  never  been  taken  off — and 
to  give  it  to  your  other  wife.  This  shall  not  be  ;  go 
back,  if  you  will,  to  your  new  friends,  but  I  will  not 
give  you  my  bangle." 

He  answered,  "  They  gave  me  an  enchanted  drink 
which  made  me  forget  you  for  a  time,  but  I  am  weary 
of  them  all ;  let  me  but  go  and  pay  my  mother-in-law 
the  money  I  owe  her  for  food  and  clothes,  and  I  will 
return  and  live  in  my  own  land,  for  you  are  my  first 
wife." 

"  Very  well,"  she  said, "  you  may  take  the  bangle  and 
sell  it,  and  give  the  money  to  your  second  wife's  mother, 
but  take  me  also  with  you  when  you  go  ;  do  not  leave 
me  here  all  alone  again."  Koila  agreed,  and  they  both 
set  off  together  toward  the  Madura  Tinivelly  country. 

As  they  journeyed,  Krishnaswami,*  who  was  playing 
at  cards  with  his  three  wives,  saw  them,  and  when  he 
saw  them  he  laughed.  Then  his  wives  said  to  him, 
"  Why  do  you  laugh  ?  You  have  not  laughed  for  such 
a  long  time:  what  amuses  you  so  much  now?"  He 
answered,  "  I  am  laughing  to  see  Koila  and  his  wife 
Chandra  Ranee  journeying  toward  the  Madura  Tini- 
velly country.  He  is  going  to  sell  his  wife's  bangle, 
and  he  will  only  be  killed,  and  then  she  in  anger  will 
burn  up  all  the  country.  O  foolish  people ! "  The 
goddesses  answered, "  This  is  a  very  dreadful  thing ;  let 
us  go  in  disguise  and  warn  him  not  to  enter  the  country." 
*  The  Hindoo  god  Krishna,  an  incarnation  of  Vishnu. 


3*4  Old  Deccan  Days. 

'*  It  would  be  useless,"  said  Krishnaswami ;  "  if  you  do; 
he  will  only  laugh  at  you  and  get  angry  with  you." 
But  the  goddesses  determined  to  do  their  best  to  avert 
the  threatened  calamity.  So  they  disguised  themselves 
as  old  fortune-tellers,  and  went  out  with  little  lamps 
and  their  sacred  books  to  meet  Koila  as  he  came  along 
the  road,  followed  by  his  wife.  Then  they  said  to  him, 
"  Come  not  into  the  Madura  Tinivelly  country,  for  if 
you  come  you  will  be  killed,  and  your  wife  in  her  fury 
will  burn  all  the  land  with  fire."  At  first,  Koila  would 
not  listen  to  them  ;  then  he  bade  them  go  away ;  and 
lastly,  when  they  continued  warning  him,  got  angry  and 
beat  them  out  of  his  path,  saying,  "  Do  you  think  I  am 
to  be  frightened  out  of  the  country  by  a  parcel  of  old 
crones  like  you  ?  " 

Then  Krishnaswami's  three  wives  returned  to  him, 
much  enraged  at  the  treatment  they  had  received  ;  but 
he  only  said  to  them,  "  Did  not  I  tell  you  not  to  go, 
warning  you  that  it  would  be  useless  ?  " 

On  getting  near  the  Rajah's  capital,  Koila  and  Chan- 
dra came  to  the  house  of  an  old  milk-seller,  who  was 
very  kind  to  them  and  gave  them  food  and  shelter  for 
the  night.  Next  morning  Koila  said  to  his  wife, "  You 
had  better  stay  here ;  this  good  old  woman  will  take 
care  of  you  while  I  go  into  the  town  to  sell  your  bangle." 
Chandra  agreed,  and  remained  at  the  old  woman's  house 
while  her  husband  went  into  the  town.  Of  course  he 
did  not  know  that  the  Rajah  and  his  wife  (the  Coplin- 
ghee  Ranee)  were  Chandra's  father  and  mother,  any 
more  than  they,  or  Chandra  herself,  knew  it,  or  than 
the  three  mango  children  knew  the  story  of  their  mothers' 
journey  in  search  of  Mahdeo. 

Now  a  short  time  before  Koila  and  Chandra  reached 


Chandrcfs   Vengeance.  305 

the  Madura  Tinivelly  country,  Coplinghee  Ranee  had 
sent  a  very  handsome  pair  of  bangles  to  a  Jeweler  in 
the  town  to  be  cleaned.  It  chanced  that  in  a  high  tree 
close  to  the  Jeweler's  house  two  eagles  had  built  their 
nest,  and  the  young  eagles,  who  were  very  noisy  birds, 
used  to  scream  all  day  long  and  greatly  disturb  the 
Jeweler's  family.  So  one  day,  when  the  old  birds  were 
away,  the  Jeweler's  son  climbed  up  the  tree  and  pulled 
down  the  nest,  and  put  the  young  eagles  to  death. 
When  the  old  birds  returned  home  and  saw  what  was 
done,  it  grieved  them  very  much,  and  they  said, "  These 
cruel  people  have  killed  our  children ;  let  us  punish 
them."  And  seeing  in  the  porch  one  of  Coplinghee 
Ranee's  beautiful  bangles,  which  the  Jeweler  had  just 
been  cleaning,  they  swooped  down  and  flew  away  with 
it.* 

The  Jeweler  did  not  know  what  to  do :  he  said  to  his 
wife,  "  To  buy  such  a  bangle  as  that  would  cost  more 
than  all  our  fortune,  and  to  make  one  like  it  would  take 
many,  many  years  ;  I  dare  not  say  I  have  lost  it,  or  they 
would  think  I  had  stolen  it  and  put  me  to  death.  The 
only  thing  I  can  do  is  to  delay  returning  the  other  as 
long  as  possible,  and  try  somehow  to  get  one  like  it." 
So  next  day,  when  the  Ranee  sent  to  inquire  if  her 
bangles  were  ready,  he  answered,  "  They  are  not  ready 
yet ;  they  will  be  ready  to-morrow."  And  the  next  day 
and  the  next  he  said  the  same  thing.  At  last  the  Ranee's 
messengers  got  very  angry  at  the  continued  delays ;  then, 
seeing  he  could  no  longer  make  excuses,  the  Jeweler  sent 
the  one  bangle  by  them  to  the  palace,  beautifully  cleaned, 
with  a  message  that  the  other  also  would  shortly  be 
ready ;  but  all  this  time  he  was  hunting  for  a  bangle 

*  See  Notes  at  the  end. 
26* 


^06  Old  Deccan  Days. 

costly  enough  to  take  the  Ranee  as  a  substitute  for  the 
one  the  eagles  had  carried  away.  Such  a  bangle,  how- 
ever, he  could  not  find. 

When  Koila  reached  the  town,  he  spread  out  a  sheet 
in  the  corner  of  a  street  near  the  market-place,  and, 
placing  the  bangle  upon  it,  sat  down  close  by,  waiting 
for  customers.  Now  he  was  very,  very  handsome. 
Although  dressed  so  plainly,  he  looked  like  a  Prince, 
and  the  bangle  he  had  to  sell  flashed  in  the  morning 
light  like  seven  suns.  Such  a  handsome  youth  and 
such  a  beautiful  bangle  the  people  had  never  seen 
before ;  and  many  passers-by,  with  chattees  on  their 
heads,  for  watching  him,  let  the  chattees  tumble  down 
and  break,  they  were  so  much  astonished  ;  and  several 
men  and  women,  who  were  looking  out  of  the  windows 
of  their  houses,  leant  too  far  forward  and  fell  into  the 
street,  so  giddy  did  they  become  from  wonder  and 
amazement ! 

But  no  one  could  be  found  to  buy  the  bangle,  for  they 
all  said, "  We  could  not  afford  to  buy  such  jewels  ;  this 
bangle  is  fit  only  for  a  Ranee  to  wear."  At  last,  when 
the  day  had  nearly  gone,  who  should  come  by  but  the 
Jeweler  who  had  been  employed  to  clean  Coplinghee 
Ranee's  bangles,  and  was  in  search  of  one  to  replace 
that  which  the  eagles  had  stolen.  No  sooner  did  he 
see  the  one  belonging  to  Chandra,  which  Koila  was 
trying  to  sell,  than  he  said  to  himself,  "  That  is  the  very 
thing  I  want,  if  I  can  only  get  it."  So  he  called  his 
wife,  and  said  to  her,  "  Go  to  that  bangle-seller  and 
speak  kindly  to  him  ;  say  that  the  day  is  nearly  gone, 
and  invite  him  to  come  and  lodge  at  our  house  for  the 
night.  For  if  we  can  make  friends  with  him  and  get 
him  to  trust  us,  I  shall  be  able  to  take  the  bangle  from 


Chandrtfs    Vengeance.  307 

him  and  say  he  stole  it  from  me.  And  as  he  is  a 
stranger  here,  every  one  will  believe  my  word  rather 
than  his.  This  bangle  is  exactly  the  very  thing  for  me 
to  take  Coplinghee  Ranee,  for  it  is  very  like  her  own, 
only  more  beautiful. 

The  Jeweler's  wife  did  as  she  was  told,  and  then  the 
Jev/eler  himself  went  up  to  Koila  and  said  to  him, 
"  You  are  a  bangle-seller,  and  I  am  a  bangle-seller ; 
therefore  I  look  upon  you  as  a  brother.  Come  home, 
I  pray  you,  with  us,  as  my  wife  begs  you  to  do,  and  we 
will  give  you  food  and  shelter  for  the  night,  since  you 
are  a  stranger  in  this  country."  So  these  cunning  peo- 
ple coaxed  Koila  to  go  home  with  them  to  their  home, 
and  pretended  to  be  very  kind  to  him,  and  gave  him 
aupper,  and  a  bed  to  rest  on  for  the  night ;  but  next 
morning  early  the  Jeweler  raised  a  hue  and  cry  and 
sent  for  the  police,  and  bade  them  take  Koila  before 
the  Rajah  instantly,  since  he  had  stolen  and  tried  to 
sell  one  of  Coplinghee  Ranee's  bangles,  which  he  (the 
Jeweler)  had  been  given  to  clean.  It  was  in  vain  that 
Koila  protested  his  innocence,  and  declared  that  the 
bangle  he  had  belonged  to  his  wife ;  he  was  a  stran- 
ger— nobody  would  believe  him.  They  dragged  him 
to  the  palace,  and  the  Jeweler  accused  him  to  the 
Rajah,  saying,  "  This  man  tried  to  steal  the  Ranee's 
bangle  (which  I  had  been  given  to  clean)  and  to  sell  it. 
If  he  had  done  so,  you  would  have  thought  I  had 
stolen  it,  and  killed  me  ;  I  demand,  therefore,  that  he 
in  punishment  shall  be  put  to  death." 

Then  they  sent  for  the  Ranee  to  show  her  the  bangle, 
hut  as  soon  as  she  saw  it  she  recognized  it  as  one  of  the 
bangles  which  had  belonged  to  Chandra,  and  burst  into 
tears,  crying,  "  This  is  not  my  bangle.  Oh,  my  lord, 


308  Old  Deccan  Days. 

no  jeweler  on  earth  made  this  bangle  !  See,  it  is  differ- 
ent to  mine ;  and  when  any  one  comes  near  it,  it  tin- 
kles and  all  the  little  bells  begin  to  ring.  Have  you 
forgotten  it  ?  This  was  my  beauty's  bangle  !  My  dia- 
mond's !  My  little  darling's !  My  lost  child's !  Where 
did  it  come  from  ?  How  did  it  come  here  ?  How  into 
this  land,  and  into  this  town  and  bazaar,  among  these 
wicked  people  ?  For  this  Jeweler  must  have  kept  my 
bangle  and  brought  this  one  in  its  place.  No  human 
goldsmith's  hands  made  this,  for  it  is  none  other  than 
Chandra's."  Then  she  begged  the  Rajah  to  inquire 
further  about  it. 

But  they  all  thought  her  mad ;  and  the  Jeweler  said, 
"  It  is  the  Ranee's  fancy,  for  this  is  the  same  bangle 
she  gave  me  to  clean."  The  other  people  also  agreed 
that  both  the  bangles  were  almost  exactly  alike,  and 
must  be  a  pair ;  and  it  being  certain  that  Koila  had  had 
the  bangle  when  he  was  seized  by  the  police,  the  Rajah 
ordered  him  to  be  instantly  executed.  But  the  Ranee 
took  Chandra's  bangle  and  locked  it  away  in  a  strong 
cupboard,  apart  from  all  her  other  jewels. 

Then  they  took  Koila  out  into  the  jungle  and  would 
have  cut  off  his  head,  but  he  said  to  his  guards,  "  If  I 
must  die,  let  me  die  by  my  own  hands,"  and  drawing 
his  sword  he  fell  upon  it,  and  as  the  sword  was  very 
sharp  it  cut  his  body  in  two — one  half  fell  on  one  side 
of  the  sword,  and  the  other  half  on  the  other  side — 
a.id  they  left  his  body  where  it  fell. 

When  the  news  of  what  had  taken  place  came  to  the 
town,  many  people  who  had  seen  Koila  selling  his  ban- 
gle the  day  before  began  to  murmur,  saying,  "  There 
must  be  some  injustice  here — the  Rajah  has  been  over- 
hasty.  Most  likely  the  poor  man  did  not  steal  the 


Chandrcts   Vengeance.  309 

bangle.  It  is  not  likely  that  he  would  have  tried  to  sel 
it  openly  before  us  all  in  the  bazaar  if  it  had  been 
stolen  property.  How  cruel  of  the  Rajah  to  put  such 
a  handsome,  gentle,  noble-looking  youth  to  death ! — 
and  he  was  a  stranger,  too!"  And  many  wept  at 
thought  of  his  hard  fate.  When  the  Rajah  heard  of 
this  he  was  very  angry,  and  sent  and  commanded  that 
the  matter  should  be  no  further  discussed  in  the  town, 
saying,  "  If  any  one  speaks  another  word  of  what  has 
been  done,  or  laments  or  sheds  tears  for  the  dead,  he 
shall  be  instantly  hanged."  Then  the  people  all  felt 
very  frightened,  and  not  a  soul  dared  to  speak  of  Koila, 
though  every  one  thought  about  him  much. 

Early  the  very  morning  that  this  happened  the  old 
milk-seller  (at  whose  house,  which  was  a  little  out  of 
the  town,  Chandra  had  been  sleeping)  took  her  guest 
A  bowl  full  of  milk  to  drink ;  but  no  sooner  had  Chan- 
dra tasted  it  than  she  began  to  cry,  saying,  "  Good 
mother,  what  have  you  done?  my  mouth  is  full  of 
blood !"  "  No,  no,  my  daughter,"  answered  the  old 
woman ;  "  you  must  have  been  dreaming  some  bad 
dream.  See,  this  is  pure,  fresh,  warm  milk  I  have 
brought  you  ;  drink  again."  But  when  Chandra  tasted 
it  for  the  second  time,  she  answered,  "  Oh  no  !  oh  no ! 
it  is  not  milk  that  I  taste,  but  blood.  All  last  night  I 
had  a  dreadful  dream,  and  this  morning  when  I  woke 
I  found  that  my  marriage  necklace  had  snapped  in  two  ; 
and  now  this  milk  tastes  to  me  as  blood.  Let  me  go ! 
let  me  go  !  for  I  know  my  husband  is  dead." 

The  old  woman  tried  to  comfort  her,  saying,  "  Why 
should  you  fancy  he  is  dead  ?  he  was  quite  well  yester- 
day, when  he  went  to  sell  your  bangle  ;  and  he  said  he 
would  come  back  to  you  soon ;  in  a  little  while,  very 


310  Old  Deccan  Days. 

likely,  he  will  be  here."  But  she  answered,  "  No,  no ; 
I  feel  sure  that  he  is  dead  !  Oh,  let  me  go !  for  I  must 
find  him  before  I  die."  Then  the  old  woman  said,. 
"  You  must  not  go  ;  you  are  too  beautiful  to  run  about 
through  the  streets  of  this  strange  town  alone,  and 
your  husband  would  be  very  angry  if  he  saw  you 
doing  so ;  and  who  knows  but  that  you  might  lose 
your  way,  and  get  carried  oft'  as  a  slave  ;  remember,  he 
told  you  to  stay  here  till  he  returned.  Be  patient ;  re- 
main where  you  are,  and  I  will  go  quickly  into  the 
town  and  seek  your  husband.  If  he  is  alive,  I  will 
bring  him  back  to  you,  and  if  he  is  dead  I  will  bring 
you  word."  So,  taking  a  chattee  full  of  milk  on  her 
head,  as  if  to  sell,  she  went  to  the  town  to  find  Koila, 
while  every  minute  seemed  an  hour  to  Chandra  until 
her  return. 

When  the  old  milk-seller  reached  the  town,  she  went 
up  and  down  all  the  streets  looking  for  Koila,  or  ex- 
pecting to  hear  some  one  mention  the  handsome 
stranger  who  had  gone  to  sell  such  a  wonderful  bangle 
the  day  before.  But  she  could  not  find  him,  nor  did 
«he  hear  him  spoken  of,  for  all  were  afraid  to  say  a 
word  about  him  on  account  of  the  Rajah's  decree. 
Being  unable  to  trace  him,  the  old  woman  got  sus- 
picious, and  began  to  search,  more  carefully  than  before, 
down  all  the  streets  near  the  market-place,  where  she 
thought  he  was  most  likely  to  have  gone ;  but,  lest 
people  should  wonder  at  her  errand,  she  called  out 
each  time  as  if  she  had  some  different  thing  to  sell. 
First,  "  Buy  some  milk — who'll  buy  milk — who'll 
buy?"  Then,  on  going  for  a  second  time  down  the 
same  street,  "  Buy  butter — butter !  very  fine  butter !" 
and  so  on.  At  last  one  woman,  who  had  been  watch 


Chandra's   Vengeance.  311 

ing  her  with  some  curiosity,  said,  "  Old  woman,  what 
nonsense  you  talk !  you  have  been  half-a-dozen  times 
up  and  down  this  same  street,  as  if  you  had  half-a- 
dozen  different  things  to  sell  in  that  one  chattee.  Any 
one  would  think  you  had  as  little  sense  as  that  pretty 
young  bangle-seller  yesterday,  who  spent  all  the  day 
trying  to  sell  a  bangle,  and  got  put  to  death  for  his 
pains." 

"  Of  whom  do  you  speak  ?"  asked  the  old  woman. 
"  Oh,"  said  the  other,  "  I  suppose,  as  you're  a  milk- 
seller  from  the  country,  you  know  nothing  about  it. 
But  that's  not  to  be  talked  about,  for  the  Rajah  has  said 
that  whoever  speaks  of  him  or  mourns  him  shall  be 
instantly  hanged.  Ah  !  he  was  very  handsome." 

"Where  is  he  now?"  whispered  the  old  woman. 
"  There,"  answered  the  other ;  "  you  can  see  the  place 
where  that  crowd  of  people  has  collected.  The  Rajah's 
Jeweler  accused  him  of  having  stolen  the  bangle ;  so 
he  was  executed,  many  thought  unjustly ;  but  do  not 
say  I  said  it."  And  so  saying,  she  pointed  toward  the 
jungle  some  way  off.  The  old  woman  ran  to  the 
place,  but  when  she  there  saw  two  halves  of  Koila's 
boay  lying  side  by  side,  stiff  and  cold,  she  threw  her 
earthen  chattee  down  on  the  ground  and  fell  on  her 
knees,  crying  bitterly.  The  noise  attracted  the  attenv 
tion  of  the  Rajah's  guards,  some  of  whom  immediately 
seized  her,  saying,  "  Old  woman,  it  is  against  the  law 
to  lament  that  dead  man  or  murmur  at  the  Rajah's  de- 
cree ;  you  deserve  to  be  put  to  death."  But  she 
answered  quickly,  "  The  dead  man  !  I  do  not  cry  for 
the  dead  man :  can  you  not  see  that  my  chattee  is 
broken  and  all  the  milk  spilt?  Is  it  not  enough  to 
make  one  weep?"  And  she  began  to  cry  again. 


313  Old  Deccan  Days. 

"  Hush  !  hush  !"  they  answered  ;  "  don't  cry ;  come, 
the  chattee  wasn't  worth  much  ;  it  was  only  an  earthen 
thing.  Stop  your  tears,  and  maybe  we'll  give  you  a 
chattee  of  gold." 

"  I  neither  care  for  your  golden  chattees  nor  for 
silver,"  she  said,  angrily.  "  Go  away  ;  go  away  !  my 
earthen  chattee  was  worth  them  all.  My  grandfather's 
grandfather  and  my  grandmother's  grandmother  used 
this  chattee  ;  and  to  think  that  it  should  now  be  broken 
and  all  the  milk  spilt !"  And  picking  up  the  broken 
pieces,  she  went  home  sobbing,  as  if  the  loss  of  her 
chattee  was  all  her  grief.  But  when  she  got  to  her  own 
house,  she  ran  into  where  Chandra  was,  crying,  "Alas ! 
my  pretty  child !  alas,  my  daughter !  your  fears  are 
true !"  and  as  gently  as  she  could  she  told  her  what 
had  happened. 

No  sooner  did  Chandra  hear  it  than  she  ran  away 
straight  to  the  Rajah's  palace  in  the  midst  of  the  town, 
and  rushing  into  the  room  where  he  was,  said,  "  How 
did  you  dare  to  kill  my  husband  ?" 

Now,  at  the  sound  of  her  voice,  her  bangle,  which 
the  Ranee  had  locked  up  in  the  cupboard,  broke 
through  all  the  intervening  doors  and  rolled  to  Chan- 
dra's feet. 

The  Rajah  was  unable  to  answer  her  a  word.  Then 
she  fell  on  her  knees  and  rent  her  clothes  and  tore  her 
hair ;  and  when  she  tore  it  all  the  land  began  to  burn 
and  all  her  hair  burned  too. 

Then  the  old  milk-seller,  who  had  followed  her,  ran 
and  put  a  lump  of  butter  on  her  head,  thinking  to  cool 
it  and  two  other  woman,  who  were  by,  fetched  water 
to  pour  upon  her  hair,  but  by  this  time  nineteen  lines 
of  houses  were  in  flames.  Then  the  old  woman  cried, 


Chandra's   Vengeance.  313 

"  Oh  !  spare  the  Purwari*  lines  ;  don't  burn  them  down, 
for  I  did  all  I  could  for  you."  So  Chandra  did  not 
burn  that  part  of  the  town  near  which  the  old  woman 
and  her  friends  lived.  But  the  fire  burnt  on  and  on  in 
the  other  direction ;  and  it  killed  the  Rajah  and  the 
Ranee  and  all  the  people  in  the  palace,  and  the  wicked 
Jeweler  and  his  wife ;  and  as  he  was  dying  Chandra 
tore  out  his  heart  and  gave  it  to  the  eagles  who  hovered 
overhead,  saying,  "  Here  is  vengeance  for  the  death  of 
your  little  ones."  And  the  Nautch  girl,  Moulee,  and 
he*-  mother,  who  were  watching  the  fire  from  far  off", 
were  smothered  in  the  flames.f 

Then  Chandra  went  to  where  Koila's  dead  body  lay 
and  wept  over  it  bitterly ;  and  as  she  was  weeping, 
there  fell  down  to  her  from  heaven  a  needle  and 
thread  ;  and  she  took  them,  saying,  "  Oh,  that  I  could 
by  any  means  restore  you  !"  and,  placing  the  two  halves 
of  his  body  side  by  side,  she  sewed  them  together. 

And  when  she  had  done  this,  she  cried  to  Mahdeo. 
saying,  "  Sire,  I  have  done  the  best  I  can ;  I  have 
joined  the  body ;  give  it  life."  And  as  she  said  these 
words  Mahdeo  had  pity  on  her,  and  he  sent  Koila's 
spirit  back  and  it  returned  to  his  body  again.  Then 
Chandra  was  glad,  and  they  retttrned  and  lived  in  their 
own  land. 

But  to  this  day  in  the  Madura  Tinivelly  country  you 
can  trace  where  all  the  land  was  burnt. 

*  Or  outcasts' ;  literally,  "  the  extra-muralists',"  /.«.,  the 
houses  of  the  lowest  classes,  not  permited  to  live  within  the 
city  walls. 

t  See  Notes  at  the  end. 

87  O 


XXIII. 

HOW  THE  THREE  CLEVER  MEN  OUTWITTED 
THE  DEMONS. 

THERE  was  once  upon  a  time  a  very  rich  man  who 
had  a  very  beautiful  wife,  and  this  man's  chief 
amusement  used  to  be  shooting  with  a  bow  and  arrow, 
at  which  he  was  so  clever  that  every  morning  he  would 
shoot  through  one  of  the  pearls  in  his  wife's  nose-riru* 
without  hurting  her  at  all.*  One  fine  day,  that  was  a 
holiday,  the  Pearl-shooter's  brother-in-law  came  to  take 
his  sister  to  their  father  and  mother's  house  to  pay  her 
own  family  a  little  visit ;  and  when  he  saw  her,  he  said, 
"  Why  do  you  look  so  pale  and  thin  and  miserable  ?  is 
your  husband  unkind  to  you,  or  what  is  the  matter?" 
"  No,"  she  answered  ;  "  my  husband  is  very  kind  to  me, 
and  I  have  plenty  of  money  and  jewels,  and  as  nice  a 
house  as  I  could  wish ;  my  only  grief  is  that  every 
morning  he  amuses  himself  by  shooting  one  of  the 
pearls  from  my  nose-ring,  and  that  frightens  me  ;  for  I 
think  perhaps  some  day  he  may  miss  his  aim  and  the 
arrow  run  into  my  face  and  kill  me.  So  I  am  in  con 
stant  terror  of  my  life  ;  yet  I  do  not  like  to  ask  him  not 
to  do  it,  because  it  gives  him  so  much  pleasure ;  but  it 
he  left  off  of  his  own  accord,  I  should  be  very-  glad." 
"What  does  he  say  to  you  himself  about  it?"  asked 
*  See  Notes  at  the  end. 


The  Three  Clever  Men  and  the  Demons.     315 

the  brother.  "  Every  day,"  she  replied,  "  when  he  has 
shot  the  pearl,  he  comes  to  me  quite  happy  and  proud, 
and  says,  '  Was  there  ever  a  man  as  clever  as  I  am  ? ' 
and  I  answer  him,  '  No,  I  do  not  think  there  ever  was 
any  as  clever  as  you.' "  "  Do  not  say  so  again,"  said 
the  brother ;  "  but  next  time  he  asks  you  the  question, 
answer,  '  Yes,  there  are  many  men  in  the  world  more 
clevei  than  you.' "  The  Pearl-shooter's  wife  promised 
to  take  her  brother's  advice.  So,  next  time  her  husband 
shot  the  pearl  from  her  nose-ring,  and  said  to  her, "  Was 
there  ever  a  man  as  clever  as  I  am?"  she  answered, 
"  Yes,  there  are  many  men  in  the  world  more  clever 
than  you." 

Then  he  said,  "  If  so  be  that  there  are,  I  will  not 
rest  until  I  have  found  them."  And  he  left  her,  and 
went  a  far  journey  into  the  jungle  in  order  to  find,  if 
possible,  a  cleverer  man  than  himself.  On,  on,  on  he 
journeyed  a  very  long  way,  until  at  last  he  came  to  a 
large  river,  and  on  the  river-bank  sat  a  traveler  eat- 
ing his  dinner.  The  Pearl-shooter  sat  down  beside 
him  and  the  two  began  conversing  together.  At  last, 
the  Pearl-shooter  said  to  his  friend,  "  What  is  the  reason 
of  your  journey,  and  where  are  you  going  ? "  The 
stranger  answered,  "  I  am  a  Wrestler,  and  the  strongest 
man  in  all  this  country ;  I  can  do  many  wonderful 
things  in  the  way  of  wrestling  and  carrying  heavy 
weights,  and  I  began  to  think  that  in  all  this  world 
there  was  no  one  so  clever  as  I ;  but  I  have  lately  heard 
of  a  still  more  wonderful  man  who  lives  in  a  distant 
country,  and  who  is  so  clever  that  every  morning  he 
shoots  one  of  the  pearls  from  his  wife's  nose-ring  with- 
out hurting  her.  So  I  go  to  find  him,  and  learn  if  this 
is  true." 


316  Old  Deccan  Days. 

The  Pearl-shooter  answered, "  Then  you  need  travel 
no  further,  for  I  am  that  man  of  whom  you  heard. " 
"  Why  are  you  traveling  about,  then,  and  where  are  you 
going?"  asked  the  Wrestler.  "I,"  replied  the  other, 
"  am  also  traveling  to  see  if  in  all  the  world  I  can  find 
a  cleverer  man  than  myself;  therefore,  as  we  have  both 
the  same  object  in  view,  let  us  be  as  brothers  and  go 
about  together;  perhaps  there  is  still  in  the  world  a 
better  man  than  we."  The  Wrestler  agreed ;  so  they 
both  started  on  their  way  together.  They  had  not  gone 
very  far  before  they  came  to  a  place  where  three  roads 
met,  and  there  sat  another  man,  whom  neither  of  them 
had  ever  seen  before.  He  accosted  the  Wrestler  and 
the  Pearl-shooter  and  said  to  them,  "  Who  are  you, 
friends,  and  where  are  you  going  ? "  "  We,"  answered 
they,  "  are  two  clever  men,  who  are  traveling  through 
the  world  to  see  if  we  can  find  a  cleverer  man  than  we ; 
but  who  may  you  be,  and  where  are  you  going  ?  "  "  I," 
replied  the  third  man,  "  am  a  Pundit,*  a  man  of  mem- 
ory, renowned  for  my  good  head,  a  great  thinker ;  and 
verily  I  thought  there  was  not  in  the  world  a  more 
wonderful  man  than  I ;  but  having  heard  of  two  men 
in  distant  lands  of  very  great  cleverness,  the  one  of 
whom  is  a  Wrestler,  and  the  other  a  shooter  of  pearls 
from  his  wife's  nose-ring,  I  go  to  find  them  and  learn 
if  the  things  I  heard  are  true."  "  They  are  true,"  said 
the  other ;  "for  we,  O  Pundit,  are  the  very  two  men 
of  whom  you  speak." 

At  this  news  the  Pundit  was  overjoyed,  and  cried, 

*'  Then  let  us  be  as  brothers ;  since  your  homes  are  far 

distant,  return  with  me  to  my  house,  which  is  close  by ; 

there  you  can  rest  a  while,  and  each  of  us  put  our 

*  Wise  man. 


The  Three  Clever  Men  and  the  Demons^      317 

various  powers  to  the  proof."  This  proposal  pleased 
the  Wrestler  and  the  Pearl-shooter,  who  accompanied 
the  Pundit  to  his  house. 

Now,  in  the  kitchen  there  was  an  enormous  cauldron 
of  iron,  so  heavy  that  five-and-twenty  men  could  hardly 
move  it ;  and  in  the  dead  of  night  the  Wrestler,  to  prove 
his  power,  got  up  from  the  veranda  where  he  was  sleep- 
ing, and  as  quietly  as  possible  lifted  this  great  cauldron 
on  his  shoulders  and  carried  it  down  to  the  river,  where 
he  waded  with  it  into  the  deepest  part  of  the  water,  and 
there  buried  it.  After  having  accomplished  this  feat, 
he  returned  to  the  Pundif  s  house  as  quietly  as  he  had 
left  it,  and,  rolling  himself  up  in  his  blanket,  fell  fast 
asleep.  But  though  he  had  come  never  so  softly,  the 
Pundit's  wife  heard  him,  and  waking  her  husband,  she 
said,  "  I  hear  footsteps  as  of  people  creeping  quietly 
about  and  not  wishing  to  be  heard,  and  but  a  little  while 
ago  I  noticed  the  same  thing ;  perhaps  there  are  thieves 
in  the  house  ;  let  us  go  and  see  :  it  is  strange  they  should 
choose  such  a  bright  moonlight  night."  And  they  both 
got  up  quickly  and  walked  round  the  house.  They 
found  nothing,  however,  out  of  order,  nor  any  signs  of 
anything  having  been  touched  or  disarranged,  until  they 
came  to  the  kitchen.  And,  indeed,  at  first  they  thought 
all  was  as  they  left  it  there,  when,  just  as  they  were 
going  away,  the  Pundit's  wife  cried  out  to  him,  "  Why, 
what  has  become  of  the  great  cauldron?  I  never 
thought  of  looking  to  see  if  that  was  safe  ;  for  it  did  not 
seem  possible  that  it  could  have  been  moved."  And 
they  both  looked  inside  the  house  and  outside,  but  the 
cauldron  was  nowhere  to  be  seen.  At  last,  however, 
they  discovered  deep  footprints  in  the  sand  close  to  the 
kitchen  door,  as  of  some  one  who  had  been  carrying  a 
27  * 


ji 8  Old  Deccan  Days. 

very  heavy  weight,  and  these  they  traced  down  to  the 
river-side. 

Then  the  Pundit  said,  "  Some  one  immensely  strong 
has  evidently  done  this,  for  here  are  the  footprints  of 
one  man  only ;  and  he  must  have  buried  the  cauldron 
in  the  water,  for,  see,  there  is  no  continuation  of  the 
footprints  on  the  other  side.  I  wonder  who  can  have 
done  it  ?  Let  us  go  and  see  that  our  two  guests  are 
asleep ;  perhaps  the  Wrestler  played  us  this  trick  to 
prove  his  great  strength."  And  with  his  wife  he  went 
into  the  veranda,  where  the  Pearl-shooter  and  the 
Wrestler  lay  rolled  up  in  their  blankets,  fast  asleep. 
First,  they  looked  at  the  Pearl-shooter ;  but  on  seeing 
him  the  Pundit  shook  his  head,  saying,  "  No,  he  cer- 
tainly has  not  done  this  thing."  They  then  looked  at 
the  Wrestler,  and  the  cunning  Pundit  licked  the  skin 
of  the  sleeping  man,  and,  turning  his  wife,  whispered, 
"  This  is  assuredly  the  man  who  stole  the  cauldron  and 
put  it  in  the  river,  for  he  must  have  been  but  lately  up 
to  his  neck  in  fresh  water,  since  there  is  no  taste  of  salt 
on  his  skin  from  his  foot  even  to  his  shoulders.  To- 
morrow I  will  surprise  him  by  showing  him  I  know 
this."  And  so  saying,  the  Pundit  crept  back  into  the 
house,  followed  by  his  wife. 

Next  morning  early,  as  soon  as  it  was  light,  the 
Pearl-shooter  and  the  Wrestler  were  accosted  by  their 
host,  who  said  to  them,  "  Let  us  go  down  to  the  river 
and  have  a  wash,  for  I  cannot  offer  you  a  bath,  since 
the  great  cauldron,  in  which  we  generally  bathe,  has 
been  mysteriously  carried  away  this  very  night." 
"  Where  can  it  have  gone?"  said  the  Wrestler.  "  Ah, 
Where  indeed  ?"  answered  the  Pundit ;  and  he  led  them 
down  to  where  the  cauldron  had  been  put  into  the  river 


The  Three  Clever  Men  and  the  Demons.     319 

by  the  Wrestler  the  night  before,  and  wading  about  in 
the  water  until  he  found  it,  pointed  it  out  to  him,  say- 
ing ,  "  See,  friend,  how  far  this  cauldron  traveled !" 
The  Wrestler  was  much  surprised  to  find  that  the  Pun- 
dit knew  where  the  cauldron  was  hidden,  and  said, 
"Who  can  have  put  it  there?"  "I  will  tell  you," 
answered  the  Pundit ;  "  why,  I  think  it  was  you !" 
And  then  he  related  how  his  wife  had  heard  footsteps, 
and,  being  afraid  of  thieves,  had  awakened  him  the 
night  before,  and  how  they  had  discovered  that  the 
cauldron  was  missing,  and  traced  it  down  to  the  river- 
side ;  and  then  how  he  had  found  out  that  the  Wrestler 
had  just  before  been  into  the  water  up  to  his  neck. 
The  Wrestler  and  the  Pearl-shooter  were  both  much 
astonished  at  the  Pundit's  wisdom  in  having  found  this 
out ;  and  the  Pearl-shooter  said  to  himself,  "  Both 
these  men  are  certainly  more  clever  than  I."  Then 
the  three  clever  men  returned  to  the  house,  and  were 
very  happy  and  joyful,  and  amused  themselves  laugh- 
ing and  talking  all  the  rest  of  the  day ;  and  when  even- 
ing came,  the  Pundit  said  to  the  Wrestler,  "  Let  us  to 
night  forego  all  meagre  fare  and  have  a  royal  feast ; 
friend  Strongman,  pray  you  go  and  catch  the  fattest  of 
those  goats  that  we  see  upon  the  hills  yonder,  and  we 
will  cook  it  for  our  dinner."  The  Wrestler  assented, 
and  ran  on  and  on  until  he  reached  the  flock  of  goats 
browsing  upon  the  hill-side.  Now,  just  at  that  mo- 
ment a  wicked  little  Demon  came  by  that  way,  and  on 
seeing  the  Wrestler  looking  at  the  goats  (to  see  which 
seemed  the  finest  to  take  home  to  dinner),  he  thought 
to  himself,  "  If  I  can  make  him  choose  me,  and  take 
me  home  with  him  for  his  dinner,  I  shall  be  able  to 
play  him  and  his  friends  some  fine  tricks."  So,  quick 


330  Old  Deccan  Days. 

as  thought,  he  changed  himself  into  a  very  handsome 
goat,  and  when  the  Wrestler  saw  this  one  goat,  so 
much  taller  and  finer  and  fatter  than  all  the  rest,  he  ran 
and  caught  hold  of  him  and  tucked  him  under  his  arm, 
to  carry  him  home  for  dinner.  The  goat  kicked  and 
kicked  and  jumped  about,  and  tried  to  butt  more 
fiercely  than  the  Wrestler  had  ever  known  any  mortal 
goat  do  before,  but  still  he  held  him  tight  and  brought 
hirr.  in  triumph  to  the  Pundifs  door.  The  Pundit 
heard  him  coming  and  ran  out  to  meet  him  ;  but  when 
he  saw  the  goat,  he  started  back  quite  frightened,  for 
the  Wrestler  was  holding  it  so  tight  that  its  eyes  were 
almost  starting  out  of  its  head,  and  they  were  fiery  and 
evil-looking  and  burning  like  two  living  coals,  and  the 
Pundit  saw  at  once  that  it  was  a  Demon,  and  no  goat, 
that  his  friend  held ;  then  he  thought  quickly,  "  If  I 
appear  to  be  frightened,  this  cruel  Demon  will  get  into 
the  house  and  devour  us  all ;  I  must  endeavor  to  intim- 
idate him."  So,  in  a  bold  voice,  he  cried,  "  O  Wrest- 
ler !  Wrestler !  foolish  friend !  what  have  you  done  ? 
We  asked  you  to  fetch  a  fat  goat  for  our  dinner,  and 
here  you  have  only  brought  one  wretched  little  Demon. 
If  you  could  not  find  goats,  while  you  were  about  it 
you  might  as  well  have  brought  more  Demons,  for  we 
are  hungry  people.  My  children  are  each  accustomed 
to  eat  one  Demon  a  day,  and  my  wife  eats  three,  and  I 
myself  eat  twelve,  and  here  you  have  only  brought  one 
between  us  all !  What  are  we  to  do  ?"  At  hearing 
these  reproaches,  the  Wrestler  was  so  much  aston- 
ished that  he  dropped  the  Demon-goat,  who,  for  his 
part,  was  so  frightened  at  the  Pundit's  words,  that  he 
came  crawling  along  quite  humbly  upon  his  knees, 
laying,  "  Oh,  sir,  do  not  eat  me,  do  not  eat  me,  and  I 


The  Three  Clever  Men  and  the  Demons.    321 

will  give  you  anything  you  like  in  the  world.  Only 
let  me  go,  and  I  will  fetch  you  mountains  of  treasure, 
rubies  and  diamonds,  and  gold  and  precious  stones  be- 
yond all  count.  Do  not  eat  me ;  only  let  me  go  !w 
"  No,  no,"  said  the  Pundit ;  "  I  know  what  ycu'll  do  ; 
you'll  just  go  away  and  never  return  :  we  are  very  hun- 
gry ;  we  do  not  want  gold  and  precious  stones,  but  we 
want  a  good  dinner ;  we  must  certainly  eat  you." 
The  Demon  thought  all  that  the  Pundit  said  must  be 
true,  he  spoke  so  fearlessly  and  naturally.  So  he  only 
repeated  more  earnestly,  "  Only  let  me  go  ;  I  promise 
you  to  return  and  bring  you  all  the  riches  that  you 
could  desire." 

The  Pundit  was  too  wise  to  seem  glad  ;  but  he  said 
sternly,  "  Very  well,  you  may  go ;  but  unless  you  re- 
turn quickly  and  bring  the  treasure  you  promise,  be  you 
in  the  uttermost  part  of  the  earth,  we  will  find  you 
and  eat  you,  for  we  are  more  powerful  than  you  and 
all  your  fellows." 

The  Demon,  who  had  just  experienced  how  much 
stronger  the  Wrestler  was  than  ordinary  men,  and  then 
heard  from  the  Pundit's  own  lips  of  his  love  for  eating 
Demons,  thought  himself  exceedingly  lucky  to  have 
escaped  their  clutches  so  easily ;  and  returning  to  his 
own  land,  he  fetched  from  the  Demons'  storehouse  a 
vast  amount  of  precious  things,  with  which  he  was 
flying  away  with  all  speed  (in  order  to  pay  his  debt 
and  avoid  being  afterward  hunted  and  eaten),  when 
several  of  his  comrades  caught  hold  of  him,  and  in  an- 
gry tones  asked  where  he  was  carrying  away  so  much 
of  their  treasure.  The  Demon  answered,  "  I  take  it 
to  save  my  life  ;  for  whilst  wandering  round  the  world 
T  was  caught  by  terrible  creatures,  more  dreadful  than 
0« 


333  Old  Deccan  Days. 

the  sons  of  men,  and  they  threaten  to  eat  me  unless  i 
bring  the  treasure." 

"We  should  like  to  see  these  dreadful  creatures," 
answered  they,  "  for  we  never  before  heard  of  mortals 
who  devoured  Demons."  To  which  he  replied,  "  These 
are  not  ordinary  mortals ;  I  tell  you  they  are  the 
fiercest  creatures  I  ever  saw,  and  would  devour  our 
Rajah,  himself,  did  they  get  the  chance  ;  one  of  them 
said  that  he  daily  ate  twelve  Demons,  that  his  wife  ate 
three,  and  each  of  his  children  one."  At  hearing  this 
they  consented  to  let  him  go  for  the  time ;  but  the 
Demon  Rajah  commanded  him  to  return  with  all  speed 
next  day,  that  the  matter  might  be  further  discussed 
in  solemn  council. 

When,  after  three  days'  absence,  the  Demon  returned 
to  the  Pundit's  house  with  the  treasure,  the  Pundit 
angrily  said  to  him,  "  Why  have  you  been  so  long 
away?  You  promised  to  return  as  soon  as  possible." 
He  answered,  "  All  my  fellow-Demons  detained  me, 
and  would  hardly  let  me  go,  they  were  so  angry  at  my 
bringing  you  so  much  treasure  ;  and  though  I  told  them 
how  great  and  powerful  you  are,  they  would  not  be- 
lieve me,  but  will,  as  soon  as  I  return,  judge  me  in 
solemn  council  for  serving  you."  "Where  is  your 
solemn  council  held?"  asked  the  Pundit.  "  Oh,  very 
far,  far  away,"  answered  the  Demon,  "  in  the  depths 
of  the  jungle,  where  our  Rajah  daily  holds  his  court." 
"  I  and  my  friends  should  like  to  see  that  place,  and 
your  Rajah  and  all  his  court,"  said  the  Pundit ;  "  you 
must  take  us  with  you  when  you  go,  for  we  have  abso- 
lute mastery  over  all  Demons,  even  over  their  Rajah 
himself,  and  unless  you  do  as  we  command  we  shall  be 
veiy  angry."  "  Very  well,"  answered  the  Demon,  foi 


The  Three  Clever  Men  and  the  Demons.    323 

he  felt  quite  frightened  at  the  Pundit's  fierce  words ; 
"  mount  on  my  back  and  I'll  take  you  there."  So  the 
Pundit,  the  Wrestler  and  the  Pearl-shooter  all  mounted 
the  Demon,  and  he  flew  away  with  them,  on,  on,  on, 
as  fast  as  wings  could  cut  the  air,  till  they  reached  the 
great  jungle  where  the  durbar*  was  to  be  held,  and 
there  he  placed  them  all  on  the  top  of  a  high  tree  just 
over  the  Demon  Rajah's  throne.  In  a  few  minutes  the 
Pearl-shooter,  the  Wrestler  and  the  Pundit  heard  a 
rushing  noise,  and  thousands  and  thousands  of  Demons 
iilled  the  place,  covering  the  ground  as  far  as  the  eye 
could  reach,  and  thronging  chiefly  round  the  Rajah's 
throne ;  but  they  did  not  notice  the  men  in  the  tree 
above  them.  Then  the  Rajah  ordered  that  the  Demon 
who  had  taken  of  their  treasure  to  give  to  mortals 
should  be  brought  to  judgment ;  and  when  they  had 
dragged  the  culprit  into  the  midst  of  them,  they  ac- 
cused him,  and  having  proved  him  guilty,  would  have 
punished  him  ;  but  he  defended  himself  stoutly,  saying, 
"  Noble  Rajah,  those  who  forced  me  to  fetch  them 
treasure  were  no  ordinary  mortals,  but  great  and  terri- 
ble ;  they  said  they  ate  many  Demons ;  the  man  ate 
twelve  a  day,  his  wife  ate  three,  and  each  of  his  chil- 
dren one.  He  said,  moreover,  that  he  and  his  friends 
were  more  powerful  than  us  all,  and  ruled  your 
majesty  as  absolutely  as  we  are  ruled  by  you."  The 
Demon  Rajah  answered,  "  Let  us  see  these  great  peo- 
ple of  whom  you  speak,  and  we  will  believe  you  ;  but 
"  At  this  moment  the  tree  upon  which  the  Pun- 
dit, the  Pearl-shooter  and  the  Wrestler  were,  broke, 
and  down  they  all  tumbled — first,  the  Wrestler,  then 
the  Pearl-shooter,  and  lastly  the  Pundit— upon  the 
*  Council. 


324  Old  Deccan  Days. 

head  of  the  Demon  Rajah  as  he  sat  in  judgment. 
They  seemed  to  have  come  down  from  the  sky,  so  sud- 
denly did  they  appear,  and,  being  very  much  alarmed 
at  their  awkward  position  determined  to  take  the 
aggressive.  So  the  Wrestler  kicked  and  hugged  and 
beat  the  Rajah  with  all  his  might  and  main,  and  the 
Pearl-shooter  did  likewise,  while  the  Pundit,  who  was 
perched  up  a  little  higher  than  either  of  the  others, 
cried,  "  So  be  it,  so  be  it.  We  will  eat  him  first  for 
dinner,  and  afterward  we  will  eat  all  the  other  De- 
mons." The  Demons  hearing  this,  one  and  all  flew 
away  from  the  confusion  and  left  their  Rajah  to  his 
fate  ;  while  he  cried,  "  Oh  spare  me  !  spare  me !  I  see 
it  is  all  true ;  only  let  me  go,  and  I  will  give  you  as 
much  treasure  as  you  like."  "  No,  no,"  said  the  Pundit ; 
"  don't  listen  to  him,  friends  ;  we  will  eat  him  for  din- 
ner." And  the  Wrestler  and  the  Pearl-shooter  kicked 
and  beat  him  harder  than  before.  Then  the  Demon 
cried  again,  "Let  me  go!  let  me  go!"  "No,  no," 
they  answered  ;  and  they  chastised  him  vigorously  for 
the  space  of  an  hour,  until,  at  last,  fearing  they  should 
get  tired,  the  Pundit  said,  "  The  treasure  would  be  no 
use  to  us  here  in  the  jungle ;  but  if  you  brought  us  a 
very  great  deal  to  our  own  house,  we  might  give  up 
eating  you  for  dinner  to-day  ;  you  must,  however,  give 
us  great  compensation,  for  we  are  all  very  hungry." 
To  this  the  Demon  Rajah  gladly  agreed,  and,  calling 
together  his  scattered  subjects,  ordered  them  to  take 
the  three  valiant  men  home  again  and  convey  the 
treasure  to  the  Pundit's  house.  The  little  Demons 
obeyed  his  orders  with  much  fear  and  trembling,  but 
they  were  very  willing  to  do  their  best  to  get  the  Pundit, 
the  Pearl-shooter  and  the  Wrestler  out  of  Demon-land, 


The  Three  Clever  Men  and  the  Demons.    325 

and  they,  for  their  parts,  were  no  less  anxious  to  go. 
When  they  got  home,  the  Pundit  said,  "You  shall  not 
go  until  the  engagement  is  fulfilled."  Instantly  Demons 
•without  number  filled  the  house  with  riches,  and  when 
they  had  accomplished  their  task,  they  all  flew  away, 
fearing  greatly  the  terrible  Pundit  and  his  friends,  who 
talked  of  eating  Demons  as  men  would  eat  almonds 
and  raisins.  So,  by  never  showing  that  he  was  afraid, 
this  brave  Pundit  saved  his  family  from  being  eaten  by 
these  Demons,  and  also  got  a  vast  amount  of  treasure. 
Then  he  divided  it  into  three  equal  portions :  a  third 
he  gave  to  the  Wrestler,  a  third  he  gave  to  the  Pearl- 
shooter,  and  a  third  he  kept  himself;  after  which  he 
sent  his  friends,  with  many  kindly  words,  back  to  their 
own  homes.  So  the  Pearl-shooter  returned  to  his 
house  laden  with  gold  and  jewels  of  priceless  worth  ; 
and  when  he  got  there,  he  called  his  wife  and  gave 
them  to  her,  saying,  "  I  have  been  a  far  journey  and 
brought  back  all  these  treasures  for  you,  and  I  have 
learnt  that  your  words  were  true,  since  in  the  world 
there  are  cleverer  men  than  I ;  for  mine  is  a  cleverness 
that  profits  not,  and  but  for  a  Pundit  and  a  Wrestler,  I 
should  not  have  gained  these  riches.  I  will  shoot 
the  pearl  from  your  nose-ring  no  more."  And  he 
never  did. 

28 


XXIV. 

THE   ALLIGATOR  AND    THE   JACKAL 

A  HUNGRY  JACKAL  once  went  down  to  the 
river-side  in  search  of  little  crabs,  bits  of  fish 
and  whatever  else  he  could  find  for  his  dinner.  Now 
it  chanced  that  in  this  river  there  lived  a  great  big  Alli- 
gator, who,  being  also  very  hungry,  would  have  been 
extremely  glad  to  eat  the  Jackal. 

The  Jackal  ran  up  and  down,  here  and  there,  but  for 
a  long  time  could  find  nothing  to  eat.  At  last,  close 
to  where  the  Alligator  was  lying  among  some  tall  bul- 
rushes under  the  clear,  shallow  water,  he  saw  a  little 
crab  sidling  along  as  fast  as  his  legs  could  carry  him. 
The  Jackal  was  so  hungry  that  when  he  saw  this  he 
poked  his  paw  into  the  water  to  try  and  catch  the  crab, 
when  snap !  the  old  Alligator  caught  hold  of  him. 
"  Oh  dear  1"  thought  the  Jackal  to  himself,  "  what  can  I 
do  ?  This  great  big  Alligator  has  caught  my  paw  in  his 
mouth,  and  in  another  minute  he  will  drag  me  down 
by  it  under  the  water  and  kill  me.  My  only  chance  is 
to  make  him  think  he  has  made  a  mistake."  So  he 
called  out  in  a  cheerful  voice,  "  Clever  Alligator,  clever 
Alligator,  to  catch  hold  of  a  bulrush  root  instead  of  my 
paw !  I  hope  you  find  it  very  tender."  The  Alligator, 
who  was  so  buried  among  the  bulrushes  that  he  could 
hardly  see,  thought,  on  hearing  this,  "  Dear  me,  how 
328 


The  Alligatoj   and  the  Jackal.  327 

tiresome !  I  fancied  I  had  caught  hold  of  the  Jackal's 
paw ;  but  there  he  is,  calling  out  in  a  cheerful  voice. 
I  suppose  I  must  have  seized  a  bulrush  root  instead, 
RS  he  says  ;"  and  he  let  the  Jackal  go. 

The  Jackal  ran  away  as  fast  as  he  could,  crying, 
"  O  wise  Alligator,  wise  Alligator !  So  you  let  me  go 
again !"  Then  the  Alligator  was  Very  much  vexed, 
but  the  Jackal  had  run  away  too  far  to  be  caught. 
Next  day  the  Jackal  returned  to  the  river-side  to  get  his 
dinner,  as  before  ;  but  because  he  was  very  much  afraid 
of  the  Alligator  he  called  out,  "  Whenever  I  go  to  look 
for  my  dinner,  I  see  the  nice  little  crabs  peeping  up 
through  the  mud ;  then  I  catch  them  and  eat  them.  I 
wish  I  could  see  one  now." 

The  Alligator,  who  was  buried  in  the  mud  at  the 
bottom  of  the  river,  heard  every  word.  So  he  popped 
the  little  point  of  his  snout  above  it,  thinking,  "  If  I  do 
but  just  show  the  tip  of  my  nose,  the  Jackal  will  take 
me  for  a  crab  and  put  in  his  paw  to  catch  me,  and  as 
soon  as  ever  he  does  I'll  gobble  him  up.'* 

But  no  sooner  did  the  Jackal  see  the  little  tip  of  the 
Alligator's  nose  than  he  called  out,  "  Aha,  my  friend  ! 
there  you  are.  No  dinner  for  me  in  this  part  of  the 
river,  then,  I  think."  And  so  saying  he  ran  farther 
on  and  fished  for  his  dinner  a  long  way  from  that 
place.  The  Alligator  was  very  angry  at  missing  his 
prey  a  second  time,  and  determined  not  to  let  him 
escape  again. 

So  on  the  following  day,  when  his  little  tormentor 
returned  to  the  water-side,  the  Alligator  hid  himself 
close  to  the  bank,  in  order  to  catch  him  if  he  could. 
Now  the  Jackal  was  rather  afraid  going  near  the  river, 
for  he  thought,  "  Perhaps  this  Alligator  will  catch  me 


328  Old  Deccan  Days. 

to-day."  But  yet,  being  hungry,  he  did  not  wish  to  go 
without  his  dinner ;  so  to  make  all  as  safe  as  he  could, 
he  cried,  "  Where  are  all  the  little  crabs  gone?  There 
is  not  one  here  and  I  am  so  hungry ;  and  generally, 
even  when  they  are  under  water,  one  can  see  them 
going  bubble,  bubble,  bubble,  and  all  the  little  bubbles 
go  pop  !  pop  !  pop  !"  On  hearing  this  the  Alligator, 
who  was  buried  in  the  mud  under  the  river-bank, 
thought,  "  I  will  pretend  to  be  a  little  crab."  And  he 
began  to  blow,  "  Puff,  puff,  puff!  Bubble,  bubble,  bub- 
ble !"  and  all  the  great  big  bubbles  rushed  to  the 
surface  of  the  river  and  burst  there,  and  the  waters 
eddied  round  and  round  like  a  whirlpool ;  and  there 
was  such  a  commotion  when  the  huge  monster  began 
to  blow  bubbles  in  this  way  that  the  Jackal  saw  very 
well  who  must  be  there,  and  he  ran  away  as  fast  as  he 
could,  saying,  "  Thank  you,  kind  Alligator,  thank  you  ; 
thank  you  !  Indeed  I  would  not  have  come  here  had  I 
known  you  were  so  close." 

This  enraged  the  Alligator  extremely  ;  it  made  him 
quite  cross  to  think  of  being  so  often  deceived  by  a 
little  Jackal,  and  he  said  to  himself,  "  I  will  be  taken 
in  no  more.  Next  time  I  will  be  very  cunning."  So 
for  a  long  time  he  waited  and  waited  for  the  Jackal  to 
return  to  the  river-side  ;  but  the  Jackal  did  not  come, 
for  he  had  thought  to  himself,  "  If  matters  go  on  in  this 
way,  I  shall  some  day  be  caught  and  eaten  by  the 
wicked  old  Alligator.  I  had  better  content  myself 
with  living  on  wild  figs,"  and  he  went  no  more  near 
the  river,  but  stayed  in  the  jungles  and  ate  wild  figs, 
and  roots  which  he  dug  up  with  his  paws. 

When  the  Alligator  found  this  out,  he  determined  to 
try  and  catch  the  Jackal  on  land  ;  so,  going  under  the 


The  Alligator  and  the  Jackal.  329 

largest  of  wild  fig  trees,  where  the  ground  was  covered 
with  the  fallen  fruit,  he  collected  a  quantity  of  it  to- 
gether, and,  burying  himself  under  the  great  heap, 
waited  for  the  Jackal  to  appear.  But  no  sooner  did 
the  cunning  little  animal  see  this  great  heap  of  wild  figs 
all  collected  together,  than  he  thought,  "  That  looks 
very  like  my  friend  the  Alligator."  And  to  discover  if 
it  was  so  or  not,  he  called  out,  "  The  juicy  little  wild 
figs  I  love  to  eat  always  tumble  down  from  the  tree, 
and  roll  here  and  there  as  the  wind  drives  them ;  but 
this  great  heap  of  figs  is  quite  still ;  these  cannot  be 
good  figs  ;  I  will  not  eat  any  of  them."  "  Ho,  ho !" 
thought  the  Alligator,  "  is  that  all  ?  How  suspicious 
this  Jackal  is  !  I  will  make  the  figs  roll  about  a  little 
then,  and  when  he  sees  that  he  will  doubtless  come 
and  eat  them." 

So  the  great  beast  shook  himself,  and  all  the  heap  of 
little  figs  went  roll,  roll,  roll — some  a  mile  this  way, 
some  a  mile  that,  farther  than  they  had  ever  rolled  be- 
fore or  than  the  most  blustering  wind  could  have  driven 
them. 

Seeing  this,  the  Jackal  scampered  away,  saying,  "  I 
am  so  much  obliged  to  you,  Alligator,  for  letting  me 
know  you  are  there,  for  indeed  I  should  hardly  have 
guessed  it.  You  were  so  buried  under  that  heap  of 
figs."  The  Alligator,  hearing  this,  was  so  angry  that 
he  ran  after  the  Jackal,  but  the  latter  ran  very,  very  fast 
away,  too  quickly  to  be  caught." 

Then  the  Alligator  said  to  himself,  "  I  will  not  allow 
that  little  wretch  to  make  fun  of  me  another  time  and 
then  run  away  out  of  reach ;  I  will  show  him  that  I 
can  be  more  cunning  than  he  fancies."  And  early  the 
next  morning  he  crawled  as  fast  as  he  could  to  the 
28  • 


330  Old  Deccan  Days. 

Jackal's  den  (which  was  a  hole  in  the  side  of  a  hill) 
and  crept  into  it,  and  hid  himself,  waiting  for  the  Jackal, 
who  was  out,  to  return  home.  But  when  the  Jackal  got 
near  the  place,  he  looked  about  him  and  thought, "  Dear 
me !  the  ground  looks  as  if  some  heavy  creature  had 
been  walking  over  it,  and  here  are  great  clods  of  earth 
knocked  down  from  each  side  of  the  door  of  my  den, 
as  if  a  very  big  animal  had  been  trying  to  squeeze  him- 
self through  it.  I  certainly  will  not  go  inside  until  I 
know  that  all  is  safe  there."  So  he  called  out,  "  Little 
house,  pretty  house,  my  sweet  little  house,  why  do  you 
not  give  an  answer  when  I  call  ?  If  I  come,  and  all  is 
safe  and  right,  you  always  call  out  to  me.  Is  anything 
wrong,  that  you  do  not  speak  ?  " 

Then  the  Alligator,  who  was  inside,  thought, "  If  that 
is  the  case  I  had  better  call  out,  that  he  may  fancy  all 
is  right  in  his  house."  And  in  as  gentle  a  voice  as  he 
could,  he  said,  "  Sweet  little  Jackal." 

At  hearing  these  words  the  Jackal  felt  quite  frightened, 
and  thought  to  himself,  "  So  the  dreadful  old  Alligator 
is  there.  I  must  try  to  kill  him  if  I  can,  for  if  I  do  not 
he  will  certainly  catch  and  kill  me  some  day."  He 
therefore  answered,  "  Thank  you,  my  dear  little  house. 
I  like  to  hear  your  pretty  voice.  I  am  coming  in  in  a 
minute,  but  first  I  must  collect  firewood  to  cook  my 
dinner."  And  he  ran  as  fast  as  he  could,  and  dragged 
all  the  dry  branches  and  bits  of  stick  he  could  find 
close  up  to  the  mouth  of  the  den.  Meantime,  the 
Alligator  inside  kept  as  quiet  as  a  mouse,  but  he  could 
not  help  laughing  a  little  to  himself,  as  he  thought,  "  So 
I  have  deceived  this  tiresome  little  Jackal  at  last.  In  a 
few  minutes  he  will  run  in  here,  and  then  won't  I  snap 
him  up !"  When  the  Jackal  had  gathered  together  all 


The  Alligator  and  the  Jackal.  331 

the  sticks  he  could  find  and  put  them  round  the  mouth 
of  his  den,  he  set  them  on  fire  and  pushed  them  as  fat 
into  it  as  possible.  There  was  such  a  quantity  of  them 
that  they  soon  blazed  up  into  a  great  fire,  and  the  smoke 
and  flames  filled  the  den  and  smothered  the  wicked  old 
Alligator  and  burnt  him  to  death,  while  the  little  Jackal 
ran  up  and  down  outside,  dancing  for  joy  and  singing — 
"  How  do  you  like  my  house,  my  friend?  Is  it  nice 
and  warm?  Ding-dong!  ding-dong!  The  Alligator 
is  dying !  ding-dong,  ding-dong !  He  will  trouble  me 
no  more.  I  have  defeated  my  enemy  I  Ring-a-ting  I 
ding-a-ting !  ding-ding-dong  I " 


NOTES    ON    THE    NARRATOR'S 
NARRATIVE. 


NOTE  A. 

THE  battle  of  Kirkee  was  the  turning-point  in  the  last  Mahratta 
war,  which  sealed  the  fate  of  the  Peishwa's  dynasty  and  trans- 
ferred the  Deccan  to  British  rule,  and  is  naturally,  in  that  part  of 
India,  still  regarded,  by  all  whose  recollections  go  back  to  those 
days,  as  the  one  great  event  of  modern  history. 

When  the  collector  of  these  tales  was  in  India,  the  house  tempo- 
rarily occupied  by  the  Governor  of  Bombay  overlooked  the  field  of 
battle,  and  among  those  who  came  to  see  the  Governor  on  business 
or  pleasure  were  some— natives  as  well  as  Europeans— to  whom  the 
events  of  half  a  century  ago  were  matters  of  living  memory. 

Old  soldiers  would  tell  how  the  fidelity  of  the  native  Sepoys  re- 
sisted all  the  bribes  and  threats  of  Bajee  Row  Peishwa,  the  absolute 
Brahmin  ruler  of  Poona,  and  thus,  while  the  Peishwa  hoped  to  effect 
his  purpose  by  treachery,  enabled  Mr.  Mountstuart  Elphinstone  to 
defer  open  hostilities — a  matter  of  vital  importance  to  the  operations 
of  Lord  Hastings  on  the  other  side  of  India,  in  preparing  for  his 
great  campaign  against  the  Pindarees. 

The  veterans  would  recount  all  the  romantic  incidents  of  the  strug- 
gle which  followed— how  the  "old  Toughs"  (now  H.  M.'s  ic^d 
Regiment),  the  only  European  corps  within  reach,  when  at  last 
slipped  from  the  leash  at  Panwell,  marched  seventy-two  miles 
straight  up  over  the  ghauts  to  Poona,  with  only  a  single  three-hours' 
halt  en  route ;  how  they  closed  up  their  ranks  of  travel-soiled  war- 
riors and  entered  the  British  lines  with  band  playing  and  colors  fly- 

333 


334  OM  Deccan  Days. 

Ing ;  and  how  not  a  straggler  dropped  behind,  M  for  all  knew  that 
there  must  be  a  battle  soon."  Their  arrival  was  the  signal  for  the 
Peishwa  to  throw  off  the  mask,  and,  as  the  British  Residency  was 
untenable,  the  English  troops  moved  out  to  take  up  a  safer  position 
at  Kirkce,  about  three  miles  from  the  city  of  Poona ;  and  as  they 
inarched  they  saw  all  the  houses  of  the  Resident  and  his  suite  fired 
by  the  enemy,  who  swarmed  out  of  the  city.  As  they  formed  in  line 
of  battle,  they  anxiously  watched  the  native  regiments  coming  up  on 
their  flank  from  Dapoorie,  for  that  was  the  moment  for  successful 
treachery  if  the  native  soldiers  were  untrue  1  Not  a  Sepoy,  how- 
ever, in  the  British  ranks  wavered,  though  before  the  junction  was 
complete  a  cloud  of  Mahratta  cavalry  poured  down  upon  them, 
dashed  through  the  opening  left  between  the  two  lines,  enveloped 
either  flank  of  the  little  army,  and  attacked  the  European  regiment 
in  the  rear.  Then,  as  a  last  resource,  the  European  regiment  faced 
about  their  second  rank,  and  kept  up  such  a  steady  rolling  fire  to 
front  and  rear  at  the  same  time  that  but  few  of  the  eager  horsemen 
ever  came  within  spear's  length  of  the  British  bayonets. 

One  of  the  most  touching  recollections  of  those  times  attracted  our 
notice  almost  the  last  day  we  spent  at  Kirkee.  An  old  chief,  Jadow- 
row  of  Malagaom,  had  come  to  take  leave  of  the  departing  Governor. 
He  was  head  of  one  of  the  oldest  Mahratta  families,  for  his  ancestors 
were  famous  as  a  very  ancient  royal  house  before  the  Mohammedans 
invaded  the  Deccan.  The  old  man  had  borne  arms  as  a  youthful 
commander  of  horse  when  the  great  Duke  was  at  Poona  in  1802,  just 
before  the  battle  of  Assaye,  had  been  greatly  distinguished  for  his 
gallantry  in  the  battle  of  Kirkee,  so  fatal  to  his  race,  and  had  fol- 
lowed the  fortunes  of  the  Peishwa  to  the  last  Disdaining  to  make 
separate  terms  for  himself  with  the  English  conqueror,  he  remained 
one  of  the  few  thoroughly  faithful  to  his  sovereign — not  from  love, 
for  he  loved  not  Bajee  Row,  but  "  because  he  had  eaten  his  salt" — 
and  only  after  the  Peishwa's  surrender  returned  to  his  old  castle  near 
Poona.  There  for  many  years  he  lived,  hunting  and  hawking  over 
his  diminished  acres,  and  greatly  respected  as  a  model  of  a  gallant 
and  honorable  old  chief;  but  he  could  never  be  persuaded  to  revisit 
the  capital  of  the  Mahrattas  after  its  occupation  by  the  English, 
"  He  had  no  child,"  he  said,  "  and  his  race  would  die  with  him." 
At  last,  as  years  rolled  on,  an  only  son  was  born  to  him ;  and  then, 
touched  by  some  unexpected  act  of  liberality  on  the  part  of  the 
British  government  which  would  secure  his  ancestral  estate  to  this 


Notes.  335 

duld  of  his  old  age,  he  resolved  to  go  to  Poona,  and  visited  the 
Governor,  whose  temporary  residence  happened  to  overlook  the 
battle-field  of  Kirkee.  He  gazed  long  and  wistfully  from  the  draw- 
ing-room  windows  and  said,  "  This  place  is  much  changed  since  I 
was  here  last,  fifty  years  ago.  It  was  here  the  battle  was  fought,  and 
it  was  from  near  this  very  spot  that  we  charged  down  that  slope  on 
the  English  line  as  it  formed  beyond  that  brook.  I  never  thought  to 
have  seen  this  place  again." 

Almost  every  hill,  fort,  and  every  large  village  round  Poona,  has 
some  tradition,  not  only  of  the  days  of  Alumgeer,  Sivagee  and  of 
early  Mahratta  history,  but  of  the  campaigns  of  Wellesley  in  1802 
and  of  the  last  great  struggle  in  1817-181 


NOTE  B. 

ANNA'S  remarks  on  the  contrast  between  the  present  dearth  and 
the  "good  old  times"  of  cheap  bread,  when  the  rupee  went  so  much 
further  than  it  does  now,  are  very  characteristic.  The  complaint, 
too,  is  very  universal,  and  is  to  be  heard  in  the  household  of  public 
functionaries,  the  highest  as  well  as  the  lowest,  in  every  grade  of 
native  society,  and  more  or  less  in  all  parts  of  India. 

The  Narrator's  notion,  that  "  The  English  fixed  the  rupee  at  six- 
teen annas,"  is  another  specimen  of  a  very  widespread  Indian  popular 
delusion.  The  rupee  always  consisted  of  sixteen  annas,  for  the  anna 
means  only  the  sixteenth  part  of  anything,  but  to  the  poor  the  great 
matter  for  consideration  in  all  questions  of  currency  is  the  quantity 
of  small  change  they  can  get  for  the  coin  in  which  their  wages  are 
paid.  Formerly  this  used  to  fluctuate  with  the  price  of  copper,  and 
the  quantity  of  copper  change  which  a  silver  rupee  would  fetch  varied 
as  copper  was  cheap  or  dear,  and  was  always  greatest  when  the 
copper  currency  was  most  debased.  The  English  introduced  all 
over  India  a  uniform  currency  of  copper  as  well  as  of  silver,  and  none 
of  course  were  greater  gainers  in  the  long  run  by  this  uniformity  than 
the  very  poor. 


336  Old  Deccan  Days. 


NOTE  C. 

I  AM  unable,  at  present,  to  give  either  the  native  words  or  music 
for  this  carious  little  Calicut  song.  The  second  part  is  probably  of 
Portuguese  origin,  or  it  may  have  been  derived  from  the  Syrian 
Christians,  who  have  been  settled  on  that  coast  since  the  earliest 
ages. 

The  English  translation  of  the  words,  as  explained  to  me  by  Anna, 
is  as  follows! 


PARTL 

THE  SONG  FROM  THE  SHIP. 
(Tb  be  sung  by  out  or  more  voices.) 

1.  Very  far  went  the  ship,  in  the  dark,  up  and  down,  up  and  down. 

There  was  very  little  sky ;  the  sailors  couldnt  see  anything ; 
rain  was  coming. 

2.  Now  darkness,  lightning  and  very  little  rain ;  but  big  flashes, 

two  yards  long,  that  looked  as  if  they  fell  into  the  sea. 

3.  On  the  third  day  the  captain  looks  out  for  land,  shading  his  eyes 

with  his  hand.  There  may  be  land.  The  sailors  say  to  him, 
"What  do  you  see?"  He  answers,  "Far  off  is  the  jungle, 
and,  swinging  in  a  tree,  is  an  old  monkey,  with  two  little 
monkeys  in  her  arms.  We  must  be  nearing  land." 

4.  Again  the  captain  looks  out ;  the  sailors  say  to  him,  "  What 

do  you  see?"  He  answers,  "On  the  shore  there  walks  a 
pretty  little  maiden,  with  a  chattee  on  her  head ;  she  skips 
and  runs,  and  dances  as  she  goes.  We  most  be  nearing 
land." 

5.  The  storm  begins  to  rage  again,  and  hides  the  land:  at  last  it 

clears  a  little.    The  sailors  say  to  the  captain,  "  What  do 
yon  see?"    He  answers,  "I  see  a  man  ploughing;  two  bol- 
locks draw  the  plough.    We  must  be  nearing  land." 
It  is  all  true ;  they  have  gained  the  shore. 


NoU*. 

PARTIL 
SONG  FROM  THE  SHORE. 

(To  be  sung  by  one  or  mart  voica.) 


I.  The  ship's  on  the  i 
Which  way  is  it  coming? 
Right  home  to  land. 
What  cargo  has  it? 
The  ship  brings  the  sacrament  and  praying  bead*. 


a.  The  ship's  on  the  i 
Which  way  is  it  coming? 
Right  home  to  land. 
What  cargo  has  it? 
The  ship  brings  white  paper  and  the  Twelve  Apostle*. 

3.  The  ship  comes  home  to  land— 
What  cargo  does  it  bring? 

Silver  money,  prophets  and  holy  people. 

4.  The  ship  comes  home  to  land — 
What  does  it  bring? 

All  the  saints  and  holy  people,  and  Jesus  Christ  of  Naza- 
reth. 

5.  The  ship  comes  to  our  doors — 
Who  brings  it  home  ? 

Our  Saviour. 

Our  Saviour  bless  the  ship,  and  bring  it  safely  home. 

The  second  song,  "The  Little  Wife  Watching  for  her  Husband's 
Return,"  Anna  had  almost  entirely  forgotten. 

It  was,  she  said,  very  pretty,  being  the  song  of  the  little  wife  as  she 
decks  herself  in  her  jewels  to  please  her  husband  when  he  comes 
home.  She  laments  his  absence,  fears  he  has  forgotten  her  and  be- 
moans her  loneliness.  M.  F. 

a  p 


NOTES  ON  THE  FAIRY  LEGENDS. 


PUNCHKIN. 

PACK  27.— The  Rajah's  seven  daughters,  taking  it  by  turns  to  cook 
their  father's  dinner,  would  be  nothing  unusual  in  the  household  of  a 
Rajah.  To  a  chief  or  great  man  in  India,  it  is  still  the  most  natural 
precaution  he  can  take  against  poison  to  eat  nothing  but  what  has 
been  prepared  by  his  wife  or  daughter,  or  under  their  eye  in  his  own 
zenana;  and  there  are  few  accomplishments  on  which  an  Indian 
princess  prides  herself  more  than  on  her  skill  in  cookery. 


RAMA  AND  LUXMAN. 

Page  107.— The  little  black  and  white  owls,  which  fly  out  at  dusk 
and  sit  always  in  pairs,  chattering  to  each  other  in  a  singularly  con- 
versational version  of  owl  language,  are  among  the  most  widely- 
spread  of  Indian  birds,  and  in  every  province  where  they  are  found 
are  regarded  as  the  most  accomplished  of  soothsayers.  Unlike  other 
ominous  creatures,  they  are  anxious  to  do  good  to  mankind,  for  they 
always  tell  each  other  what  the  traveler  ought  to  do,  and,  if  mankind 
were  not  so  dull  in  understanding  their  language,  would  save  the 
hearer  from  all  risk  of  misfortune. 


LITTLE  SURYA  BAL 

Pmge  n&— The  sangfroid  with  which  the  first  Ranee,  here  and  in 
the  story  of  Panch-Phul  Ranee,  page  164,  receives  the  seccvd  and 
338 


Notes.  339 

more  favored  wife  to  share  her  throne,  however  difficult  to  under- 
stand in  the  West,  is  very  characteristic  of  Oriental  life.  In  Indian 
households  of  the  highest  rank  it  would  not  be  difficult  to  find  ex- 
amples of  several  wives  living  amicably  together,  as  described  in  some 
of  these  stories ;  but  the  contrary  result,  as  depicted  in  this  story  of 
Surya  Bai  and  others,  is  far  more  common,  for  as  a  general  rule 
human  nature  is  too  strong  for  custom,  and  under  an  external  sere- 
nity bitter  jealousies  exist  between  the  several  wives  of  a  royal 
Hindoo  household,  which  are  a  constant  source  of  misery  and  crime. 
Among  the  curious  changes  of  opinion  which  are  observable  of  late 
years  in  the  Indian  empire,  none  is  more  remarkable  than  the  con- 
viction, now  frequently  expressed  by  the  warmest  supporters  of  native 
governments  at  native  courts,  that  the  toleration  of  polygamy  is  one 
of  their  most  serious  dangers,  the  removal  of  which  is  of  vital  import- 
ance to  the  safety  of  any  Indian  dynasty,  and  indeed  to  the  perma- 
nence of  any  Indian  family  of  rank. 


THE  WANDERINGS  OF  VICRAM  MAHARAJAH. 

Page  131.— The  Dipmal,  or  Tower  of  Lights,  is  an  essential  fea- 
ture in  every  large  Hindoo  temple.  It  is  often  of  great  height,  and 
furnished  with  niches  or  brackets,  each  of  which  holds  a  lamp  on 
festivals,  especially  on  that  of  the  Dewali,  the  feast  of  lamps  cele- 
brated in  the  autumn  in  honor  of  the  Hindoo  goddess  Bowani  or 
Kali,  who  was  formerly  propitiated  on  that  occasion  by  human 
sacrifices. 

Page  132.— The  story  of  Vicram's  act  of  devotion  is  thoroughly 
Hindoo.  It  is  difficult  to  understand  the  universal  prevalence  and 
strength  of  the  conviction  among  Hindoos  that  the  particular  god  of 
their  adoration  can  be  prevailed  on,  by  importunity  or  self-devotion, 
to  reveal  to  his  worshiper  some  act,  generally  ascetic  or  sacrificial, 
the  performance  of  which  will  insure  to  the  devotee  the  realization 
of  the  object  of  his  wishes.  The  act  of  devotion  and  the  object  of 
the  devotee  are  both  often  very  trivial ;  but  occasionally  we  are 
startled  by  hearing  of  some  deed  of  horror,  a  human  sacrifice  or  de- 
liberate act  of  self-immolation,  which  is  quite  unaccountable  to  those 
who  are  not  aware  that  it  is  only  a  somewhat  extreme  manifestation 


340  Old  Deccan  Days. 

of  a  belief  which  still  influences  the  daily  conduct  of  the  great  ma- 
jority of  the  Hindoos. 

And  even  those  who  have  known  the  Hindoos  long  and  intimately 
frequently  fail  to  recognize  the  extent  to  which  this  belief  influences 
the  ethics  of  common  life  and  action  in  India.  To  quote  an  instance 
from  well-known  history,  there  are  few  acts  regarding  which  a  Euro- 
pean traveler  would  expect  the  verdict  of  all  mankind  to  be  more 
generally  condemnatory  than  the  murder  of  Afzul  Khan,  the  general 
of  the  Imperial  Delhi  army,  by  Sivajee,  the  founder  of  the  Mahratta 
empire.  Sivajee,  according  to  the  well-known  story,  had  invited  his 
victim  to  an  amicable  conference,  and  there  stabbed  him  with  a  wag 
nuck*  as  they  embraced  at  their  first  meeting.  It  was  a  deed  of  such 
deliberate  and  cruel  treachery  that  it  could  find  few  defenders  in 
Europe,  even  among  the  wildest  advocates  of  political  assassination. 
A  European  is  consequently  little  prepared  to  find  it  regarded  by 
Mahrattas  generally  as  a  most  commendable  act  of  devotion.  The 
Hindoo  conscience  condemns  murder  and  treachery  as  emphatically 
as  the  European ;  but  this  act,  as  viewed  by  the  old-fashioned  Mah- 
ratta, was  a  sacrifice  prescribed  by  direct  revelation  of  the  terrible 
goddess  Bowani  to  her  faithful  devotee.  It  was  therefore  highly 
meritorious,  and  the  beautiful  Genoese  blade  which  Sivajee  always 
wore,  and  with  which  his  victim  was  finally  despatched,  was,  down  to 
our  own  days,  provided  with  a  little  temple  of  its  own  in  the  palace 
of  his  descendants,  and  annually  worshiped  by  them  and  their  house- 
hold—not as  a  mere  act  of  veneration  for  their  ancestor's  trusty 
•word,  but  because  it  was  the  chosen  instrument  of  a  great  sacrifice, 
and  "  no  doubt,"  as  the  attendant  who  watched  it  used  to  say,  "  some 
of  the  spirit  of  Bowani,"  whose  name  it  bore,  "must  still  reside 
in  it" 

An  attentive  observer  will  notice  in  the  daily  life  of  those  around 
him  in  India  constant  instances  of  this  belief  in  the  efficacy  of  acts  of 
devotion  and  sacrifice  to  alter  even  the  decrees  of  Fate.  It  is  one  of 
the  many  incentives  to  the  long  pilgrimages  which  form  such  a  uni- 
versal feature  in  Hindoo  life,  and  the  records  of  the  courts  of  justice 
and  the  Indian  newspapers  constantly  afford  traces  of  its  prevalence 

•  An  instrun^n  t  so  called  from  its  similarity  to  a  tiger's  claw.  It  consists  of  sharp 
tarred  steel  blades  set  on  a  bar,  which  fits  by  means  of  finger-rings  to  the  inside  of 
the  hand,  so  as  to  be  concealed  when  the  hand  is  closed,  while  the  blades  project  at 
right  angles  to  the  axM  bar  and  palm  when  the  hand  is  opened.  It  is  struck  as  i» 
slapping  or  tearing  with  the  claws. 


Notes.  341 

in  cases  of  attempted  suttee  and  other  acts  of  self-immolation,  or  even 
of  human  sacrifice,  such  as  are  above  alluded  to.  It  must  be  remem- 
bered that  Hindoo  sacrifice  has  nothing  but  the  name  in  common 
with  the  sacrifices  which  are  a  distinctive  part  of  the  religion  of  every 
Semitic  race.  Many  a  difficulty  which  besets  the  Hindoo  inquirer 
after  truth  would  be  avoided  if  this  essential  distinction  were  always 
known  or  remembered. 

Page  136. — This  belief  in  the  omnipotence  of  "Muntrs,"  or  certain 
verbal  formulas,  properly  pronounced  by  one  to  whom  they  have  been 
authoritatively  communicated,  is  closely  allied  to,  and  quite  as  uni- 
versal as,  the  belief  in  the  efficacy  of  sacrificial  acts  of  devotion.  In 
every  nation  throughout  India,  whatever  may  be  the  variations  of 
creed  or  caste  usage,  it  is  a  general  article  of  belief,  accepted  by  the 
vast  majority  of  every  class  and  caste  of  Hindoos,  that  there  is  a  form 
of  words  (or  Muntr)  which,  to  be  efficacious,  can  be  only  orally  trans- 
mitted, but  which,  when  so  communicated  by  one  of  the  "twice- 
born,"  has  absolutely  unlimited  power  over  all  things  visible  or 
invisible,  extending  even  to  compelling  the  obedience  of  the  gods 
and  of  Fate  itself.  Of  course  it  is  rather  dangerous,  even  for  the 
wisest,  to  meddle  with  such  potent  influences,  and  the  attempt  is 
usually  confined  to  the  affairs  of  common  life  j  but  of  the  absolute 
omnipotence  of  "  Muntrs  "  few  ordinary  un-Europeanized  Hindoos 
entertain  any  doubt,  and  there  is  hardly  any  part  of  their  belief  which 
exercises  such  an  all-pervading  and  potent  influence  in  their  daily 
life,  though  that  influence  is  often  but  little  understood  by  Euro- 
peans. 

The  classical  reader  will  remember  many  allusions  to  a  similar 
belief  as  a  part  of  the  creeds  imported  from  the  East,  which  were 
fashionable  under  the  Empire  at  Rome.  There  is  much  curious  in- 
formation on  the  subject  of  the  earliest-known  Hindoo  Muntrs  in  the 
Aitareya  Brahmana  of  the  learned  Dr.  Haug,  the  only  European  who 
ever  witnessed  the  whole  process  of  a  Hindoo  sacrifice.  The  reader 
who  is  curious  on  such  matters  will  do  well  to  consult  the  recently- 
published  work  of  Professor  Max  Muller,  which  might,  without  ex- 
aggeration, be  described  as  a  storehouse  of  new  facts  connected  with 
the  religion  and  literature  of  the  East,  rather  than  by  its  modest  title 
of  Chips  from  a  German  Workshop. 
39  • 


343  Old  Deccan  Days. 


HOW  THE  SUN,  THE  MOON  AND  THE  WIND  WENT 
OUT  TO  DINNER. 

Page  194. — I  have  not  ventured  to  alter  the  traditional  mode  of  the 
Moon's  conveyance  of  dinner  to  her  mother  the  Star,  though  it  must, 
I  fear,  seriously  impair  the  value  of  the  story  as  a  moral  lesson  in  the 
eyes  of  all  instructors  of  youth.  M.  F. 


SINGH  RAJAH  AND  THE  CUNNING  LITTLE  JACKALS. 

Page  198. — This  story  is  substantially  the  same  as  one  well-known 
to  readers  of  Pilpai's  Fables.  The  chorus  of  the  Jackals'  song  of 
triumph  is  an  imitation  of  their  nocturnal  howl 


THE  JACKAL,  THE  BARBER  AND  THE  BRAHMIN. 

Page  203. — The  touch  of  the  poor  outcast  Mahars  would  be  pollu- 
tion to  a  Hindoo  of  any  but  the  lowest  caste ;  hence  their  ready  obe- 
dience to  the  Jackal's  exhortation  not  to  touch  him. 

The  offerings  of  rice,  flowers,  a  chicken,  &c.,  and  the  pouring  water 
over  the  idol,  are  parts  of  the  regular  daily  observance  in  every  vil- 
lage temple. 


MUCHIE  LAL, 

Page  265.— The  popular  belief  in  stories  of  thia  kind,  where  the 
Cobra  becomes  the  companion  of  human  beings,  is  greatly  strength- 
ened by  the  instances  which  occasionally  occur  when  particular  per- 
•oas,  sometimes  children  or  idiots,  possess  the  power  to  handle  the 
deadly  reptiles  without  receiving  any  injury  from  them.  How  much 
is  due  merely  to  gentleness  of  touch  and  fearlessness,  and  how  much 
to  any  personal  peculiarity  which  pleases  the  senses  of  the  snake,  it 
is  difficult  to  say,  for  the  instances,  though  not  few  and  perfectly  well 


Notes.  343 

authenticated,  are  sufficiently  rare  to  be  popularly  regarded  as  mirac- 
ulous. 

In  one  case,  which  occurred  in  the  country  west  of  Poona  not  long 
after  our  conquest  of  the  Deccan,  a  Brahmin  boy  could,  without  the 
aid  of  music  or  anything  but  his  own  voice,  attract  to  himself  and 
handle  with  impunity  all  the  snakes  which  might  be  within  hearing 
in  any  thicket  or  dry  stone  wall,  such  as  in  that  country  is  their  favor- 
ite refuge.  So  great  was  the  popular  excitement  regarding  him, 
under  the  belief  that  he  was  an  incarnation  of  some  divinity,  that  the 
magistrate  of  Poona  took  note  of  his  proceedings,  and  becoming  un- 
easy as  to  the  political  turn  the  excitement  regarding  the  boy  might 
take,  reported  regularly  to  government  the  growth  of  the  crowds  who 
pressed  to  see  the  marvel  and  to  offer  gifts  to  the  child  and  his 
parents  1  The  poor  boy,  however,  was  at  last  bitten  by  one  of  the 
reptiles  and  died,  and  the  wonder  ceased. 


CHUNDUN  RAJAH. 

Page  274.— There  are  innumerable  popular  superstitions  regarding 
the  powers  which  can  be  conveyed  in  a  charmed  necklace ;  and  it  is 
a  common  belief  that  good  and  bad  fortune,  and  life  itself,  can  be 
made  to  depend  on  its  not  being  removed  from  the  wearer's  neck. 


CHANDRA'S  VENGEANCE. 

Page  292. — The  picture  of  the  childless  wife  setting  forth  to  seek 
Mahdeo,  and  resolving  not  to  return  till  she  has  seen  him,  is  one 
which  would  find  a  parallel  in  some  of  the  persons  composing  almost 
every  group  of  pilgrims  who  resort  to  the  great  shrines  of  Hindostan. 
Any  one  who  has  an  opportunity  of  quietly  questioning  the  members 
of  such  an  assemblage  will  find  that,  besides  the  miscellaneous  crowd 
of  idlers,  there  are  usually  specimens  of  two  classes  of  very  earnest 
devotees.  The  one  class  is  intent  on  the  performance  of  some  act 
of  ascetic  devotion,  the  object  of  which  is  to  win  the  favor  of  the 
divinity,  or  to  fulfill  a  vow  for  a  favor  already  granted.  The  other 
class  is  seeking  "to  see  the  divinity,"  and  expecting  the  revelation 


344  Old  Deccan  Days. 

under  one  or  other  of  the  terrible  forms  of  the  Hindoo  Pantheon. 
There  are  few  things  more  pathetic  than  to  hear  one  of  this  class  re- 
count the  wanderings  and  sufferings  of  his  past  search,  or  the  jour. 
neys  he  has  before  him,  which  are  too  often  prolonged  till  death  putt 
an  end  to  the  wanderer  and  his  pilgrimage. 

Page  294. — The  "  fire  which  does  not  burn "  is  everywhere  in 
India  one  of  the  attributes  of  Mahdeo. 

In  many  parts  of  the  Deccan  are  to  be  found  shrines  consecrated 
to  one  of  the  local  gods,  who  has  been  Brahminically  recognized  as  a 
local  manifestation  of  Mahdeo,  where  the  annual  festival  of  the 
divinity  was,  within  the  last  few  years,  kept  by  lighting  huge  fires, 
through  which  devotees  ran  or  jumped,  attributing  their  escape  from 
burning  to  the  interposition  of  Mahdeo.  Except  in  a  few  remote 
villages,  this  custom,  which  sometimes  led  to  serious  accidents,  has 
in  British  territory  been  stopped  by  the  police. 

Page  298. — This  story  of  the  wonderful  child  who  was  found  float- 
ing in  a  box  on  a  river  is  to  be  heard,  with  more  or  less  picturesque 
local  variations,  on  the  banks  of  every  large  river  in  India.  Almost 
every  old  village  in  Sind  has  a  local  tradition  of  this  kind 

Page  305.— Most  households  in  Calcutta  can  furnish  recollections 
of  depredations  by  birds,  at  their  nest-building  season,  similar  to  that 
of  the  Ranee's  bangles  by  the  Eagles  in  this  story.  But  the  object 
of  the  theft  is  generally  more  prosaic.  I  have  known  gold  rings  so 
taken,  but  the  plunder  is  more  frequently  a  lady's  cuff  or  collar,  or  a 
piece  of  lace ;  and  the  plunderers  are  crows,  and  sometimes,  but  very 
rarely,  a  kite. 

Page  313. — Purwaris,  or  outcasts,  who  are  not  suffered  to  live 
within  the  quarter  inhabited  by  the  higher  castes,  are  very  numerous 
in  Southern  India,  and  a  legend  similar  to  this  one  is  a  frequent 
popular  explanation  of  their  being  in  excess  as  compared  with  othei 
classes  of  the  population. 


HOW   THE   THREE   CLEVER   MEN   OUTWITTED  THE 
DEMONS. 

Page  314.— Old  residents  at  Surat  may  remember  an  ancient  local 
celebrity  named  Tom  the  Barber,  among  whose  recollections  of 
former  days  was  a  chronicle  of  a  renowned  duelist,  who  used  to 


Notes. 


345 


am  use  himself  by  shooting  with  his  pistol,  somewhat  after  the  fashion 
of  the  Pearl-shooter.  The  little  tin  can  of  hot  water  which  Tom  cap 
ried,  slung  from  his  forefinger  as  he  went  his  morning  rounds,  was  a 
favorite  mark.  So  were  the  water-jars  on  the  heads  of  the  women  as 
they  passed  the  duelist's  house  coming  from  the  well ;  and  great  was 
Tom's  relief  when  an  old  woman,  who  could  not  be  pacified  by  the 
usual  douceur  for  the  loss  of  her  jar  and  the  shock  of  finding  the 
water  stream  down  her  back,  appealed  to  the  authorities  and  had 
the  duelist  bound  over  to  abstain  in  future  from  his  dangerous 
amusement 

So  vivid  were  Tom's  recollections  of  his  own  terrors  that,  after  the 
lapse  of  half  a  century,  he  could  ill  conceal  his  sense  of  the  poetical 
justice  finally  inflicted  on  his  tormentor,  who  was  killed  in  a  duel 
to  which  he  provoked  a  young  oflicer  who  had  never  before  fired  a 
pistol 

P» 


University  of  California.  Los  Angeles 


L  005  280  366  5 


